He's chasing fame of
course. San Francisco.

The stone buildings symbolized nothing.

The dead old
car had a flat tire.

He entered an empty house with

empty flower pots and windows.

He slid down the hill carrying
a shovel. There was a white flower shrub.

Piles of great
sticks lay down trodden.
He stopped, anticipated a karate chop, she was gorgeous, had
short hair and was near a brick on the ledge, luxury
was a cost, an empty bowl was blue, cereal was stolen.
Fraudulent downtown was court houses, his cigarette was
the wall. A fridge was a red topped tableware silverware with clothes stirred in
a chair faced backwards - you're inferring!