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Amadeus, where art thou? For I see you by yonder tree, speaking to the squirrel’s nut. Amadeus where art thou? You’re no Romeo, yet you sit under yonder balcony, muttering gibberish under the bush. I write this to you in sweat, for I have no blood nor ink to send to yonder hill atop which you fancy a stroll. I don’t fancy writing this, really, for I don’t quite know what to say as you gaze at the grassy window pane behind which the kraken sits. Amadeus where art thou? For this is your plight. You can make sense not of anything I write.
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Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 6:21 PM UTC
The Plight of Amadeus
Amadeus, where art thou? For I see you by yonder tree, speaking to the squirrel’s nut. Amadeus where art thou? You’re no Romeo, yet you sit under yonder balcony, muttering gibberish under the bush. I write this to you in sweat, for I have no blood nor ink to send to yonder hill atop which you fancy a stroll. I don’t fancy writing this, really, for I don’t quite know what to say as you gaze at the grassy window pane behind which the kraken sits. Amadeus where art thou? For this is your plight. You can make sense not of anything I write.
© 2010 Callum Evans
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Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 6:21 PM UTC
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