

Diacetylmorphine HydrochlorideThe air was cold and subdued. The dank bar lit only by the buzzing neon lights advertising bad American beer and the contrasting orange glow of lit cigarettes. Our protagonist stood from the stool and left his still-smoking cigarette in the ash tray to slowly burn away into nothingness. Most people enter and exit from the front door. Not him. Theres something about a fire escape that he finds appealing. Perhaps its the cold, rusty steel, a monument to solidarity and resoluteness. Or maybe he just never liked convention. Whichever the case, the allure was too strong for him, so he strode through the door marked employees onlyDiacetylmorphine Hydrochloride


Nary A Doubt In My MindMy breath was shaky as I strolled up to the woman clad in skin-tight red silk. She looked me up and down, and let me unwind. I sank into a seat and stroked her gently, and she opened herself willingly to me. Never before had it seemed so sweet to slip inside of her, to turn the key and hear her start right up, free of oil leaks or the hacking coughs of a dying whale.Nary A Doubt In My Mind
The sun began to set, and I steered her in its direction. The buildings around me were mountains painted orange by Apollo's fleeting arrows. I drove her as I had never done so before, and I felt connected once more. The smooth curve of her wheel, the tantalizing spee
~Snapple.
--
stop();
//hammertime
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