I spat
on her shoes, as she scrambled up to the window, where I had parked my old war
gun, dressed in scruffy black leather shoes, and a flowery yellow dress, I
growled when she got near, I stared into her face, as though my teeth were
staring, thick and dirty, I bit at my lips. She shimmered, and left. I pointed
my head at the far wall, and it stayed there for sometime, until I realised I
was still looking outside the window, where the real lands, were basking in
light blue plush clouds, turned like flossy lilac triangles fixed in the design
of the sky.
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