September 2017 This Is My BusRead Now
8/24/2020 05:45:02 am
We showed up and his eyes flickered open. the principal hands to snatch him were grandma's. the shriveled fingers like broken twigs, only hours from being associated with arms for a long time. in insubordination at the certainty of death, he bit her. what's more, dropped to the floor. moving. running. floating.
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