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It was the sort of day that equates to the last day December **** it why is it sixty and humid enough to swim circles through the air? yet the grey mist suffocates the horizon and the light mist tastes like a city the cat standing on driveways of crumbling mansions running with fur puffed up from wild dogs snarling at choke chain collars The trees are all hiding their heads in the sand and each building passed decays in decadence everybody hungry enough to do something they might regret men and women taking shelter in zoo enclosures to avoid the jungle cats which stalk the streets beneath blood red hunters' moons It was the kind of day to make me want to see the next
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
one of those days
It was the sort of day that equates to the last day December **** it why is it sixty and humid enough to swim circles through the air? yet the grey mist suffocates the horizon and the light mist tastes like a city the cat standing on driveways of crumbling mansions running with fur puffed up from wild dogs snarling at choke chain collars The trees are all hiding their heads in the sand and each building passed decays in decadence everybody hungry enough to do something they might regret men and women taking shelter in zoo enclosures to avoid the jungle cats which stalk the streets beneath blood red hunters' moons It was the kind of day to make me want to see the next
harry-j-baxter
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
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