ill and vanished from the open wound between the wall and her bed. It was a narrow, bright, overlooking the horizon and clouds of dust and gloom, there was a great place but it was a special place. There his thoughts were diluted creating a gallery full of nuances, mazes, colors and butterflies with hiccups, chronic hiccups.
He walked by that place, became intrigued by the sad light of the streetlamps, flew into those labyrinths, without a guide, not wanting to look way out. But when he tried to climb one of those fluffy clouds and dirty, the whole thing a sneeze world. So, he opened his eyes, wiped his nose and was again embraced a floral pillow, felt ridiculous because it felt like forever, defeated, then slept or tried.
not dreamed of anything, I preferred it, had dreamed a lot lately, I thought that too. Again spent the night hours looking at the starry ceiling of his room, tragicomic scene endless, unbearable ... at dawn magnificent butterfly escaped hiccups when yawning. So I think he smiled. What the heck, smiled!
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