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the old man edges along, his palms crushing the backs of chairs searching for something like home. i despise him in this moment: i loathe his paunch protruding shamelessly into private spaces, his shoes- lumps of plastic fastened carelessly with velcro. i sniff arrogantly at this fountain of filth, catching an unmistakable stench: it is death, draped over those shoulders- a ghastly garment leering at all around him. but
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
Untitled
the old man edges along, his palms crushing the backs of chairs searching for something like home. i despise him in this moment: i loathe his paunch protruding shamelessly into private spaces, his shoes- lumps of plastic fastened carelessly with velcro. i sniff arrogantly at this fountain of filth, catching an unmistakable stench: it is death, draped over those shoulders- a ghastly garment leering at all around him. but
kevin-gish
Written by
American
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
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