Spitterings

A genuine attempt to fill another hot void.

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Dr Menard
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Wednesday, 9 July 2008

Jonathon felt a buzz like a rickshaw ride up his bottom. He opened his eyes to discover a room with blood walls and a Matisse on the ceiling. His fingers had been cut off and stuck in a vase on the windowsill. There was a smell like his mother in the air.
hit by Dr Menard

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