a shorty

The spring was streaming up the ladder, it was achieved by a stance of glory and defeat. So the sixlegged had to arrive in time.

She was waiting by the sidewalk of a slidekick. Just, as usual, locking the gum to a fingernail. Not as soft you know, the gum, but nod as hard as a dried one. So she looked at the left to see the wit expression inside. She took off her bag, strapped with some strange red and white lightrubbers, and started to cross the road. Didn’t know that it was finished by some barmy roadloaders, but she knew that somewhere out there is a sound.

And the sound was thin. Thin as a pin, right off perine. She scribbled her nose, and wondered, why is there a possibility to feel one. You know, one. Just a smelly button, a bottle of crystal weather, a happy holiday present. So she guessed he wondered also. She guessed and guessed, not knowing that the eraser got the smell right off her beautiful hair. If we put it that way, I must admit, that a nose is a nose eaven if it doesn’t feel shit right from the rollercoaster and till then when the leafy fingers stwatch to the hard ones. Actually they streamed, she was never good at guessing, you know. But what if he finds out. Oh no no no. He is too childish and playfull to notice that I’m a believer. Beaver? He replied. With a stain of a nicotine on his left tooth. No, just a believer. You cannot even imagine, boy. We aint got no Gals here, we have only the Gal, understand it? Well subjunctively no, and I object of being objected.

So the dialogue continued, leading to some misaquisations from the dumb side. As the nasty stance was fed by the glorious behavior, he startled to wrist a bird on the road dust. To wrist what? Yeah a bird that he stole long time ago. Hopefully not to the reason but lets cut the subject. Why do we hear some privacy word she wondered, and yes, defensively and offended at the same time she saw a man lying on the burnt out grass. She came up to him and wondered. Wondered some more if you get the meaning of the resting guy across the drying stream, and a rabbit hat stwatched on his eyes.

She asked – What a nice one I see, don’t i?

He answered – Preferably yes, but you know there is a lot going out of the nowhere.

She felt uncomfortable – And whats up with your hat, where did you get it from?

A hat is a hat – he answered – I found it out somewhere, randomly. Maybe you will help me
to define whom does it belong to.

-You are that dumb, fucker, or you kidding me.

-Aint got no bullies for dat, young lady.

Hmmm, she thought. She thought and she thought and she thought. What an awful word to type, appeared from somewhere. And what a nice pair of nipples she flushshed. Yeah, this one has got the brains, obviously. Out of me, for a reason. And he is not a guesser, he is a waiter at his own defensive state. Allrighty then, she dreamed for a second, and the second appeared to be a compliment right before her eyes. A kidder, huh. She thought sideways, and stwatched that he is.

Hey Lady, enough of the questions, maybe its my turn.

A turn is a turn, she wondered. Hopefully a cloudy one, without a harm, you know. And you know the second phrase I tell you, obviously.

- Lady, I know that its not what you happen to hear, but is there any paragraphs going under, you know, the glide?
What the fuck do you know about the glide she wanted to say, but instead made a wit face.

- The glide is a glide, nobody knows where one can get it from.

- Maybe out of your blyaddish eyes, bitchy? He smiled triply, and stwatched a finger inside his nose.

- Maybe, Maybe. Damn this is not what I expected, allright, lets ripple the nipple then.
- Aint got no bullies for dat, lady-shady. Just thinking why they are so blyaddish afterall. You know I’ve seen a guy whose nose was as long as yours, and the quill fell out off my left hand.

- The man on a picture, right? She aroused.

- Yep, and I got something erased about his mate ya know, just erased as it should be.

- You mean the load eraser, don’t you.

- Preferably yes, and the timing of the erasement, ya know. I think dat I owe them something but I cannot remind myself what

Hopefully, I will remind you, shorty. She, thinking of what may turn their gestures into, born a thought that a stroll has to be continued. So she whirled on her toes, critically damaging the lyer with some dust on his jeans, and started to move on. So, she thought that an aquisation will come afterall, but there wasn’t a sound. The jeans, right, appeared from somewhere again, and she tried not to look back. And the guy just thought about the tissue, but that’s not to the matter at all.

So she went and she went. Snakes curling around her field of view, as far as she got her foot on some crispy plant. Gesturing falcons, giving away their hellos by a feather. So she stopped and thought how long she had been walking. A while ago, when she had been a torturer of 2self, she had been playing the goodness for the autumn leafs. She had given away like a child that he tended to kiss and to kiss till something grow bigger. So she refused, knowing that sometime it might happen. No, having a strong assurance that it just happens or she dies out. And the horses, and the bunnies, and even the birds – told her that. On the top of the carton box was a nice placement for a cat to be on her way, and on the middle floor there had been held a riddling party. So the party riddled, and he (the ptso) couldn’t believe his eyes. There had been a steel tunnel, not to be obvious, but regardfull to the builders, he took the load. He had a feeling that in a bit of a second he might fall down. Hopefully, not lacking anything, hopefully the chip was placed right. From your na;ve side, that isn’t na;ve at all to a reason, selfuplifting means dowlifting your heroical past in my inner view. Hope that we will have a balance, and hope that existence is still an existence, for no one could be that combined against one, and no one could stream to the combined harder. So we conclude to another box, hopefully full of candies, and I must admit that if so, they will be chocolate ones. Crisp for the risk of being at lisk, petry the vetri and be on her list, they say. Allrighty then I have to  resolve a shorty on the top of that. You know, the shorty, the gloves of feather. But if we do so, we will never be at crit, only the cracked stance of commitment Tthe reminder’s order had to be filled with ink and paper, and the tribulance had to roll over. So we do know the fact that he or she is still ill, and cannot help each other but jogging.

What was it? Streamed in her mind, but spontaneously gone towards the down level. Mybe  some tender sun brought her this, or just someone was sneaking behind to have a bite of sweets. You ll never know until it bites back, for a reason, behavioral.

So she cruffled down her underarm and felt that she doesn’t deserve this. If, cruffled up, in the stance of some moistering  gratefulness to the wind and fresh air, then it does the lights down the sandy hills. She guessed that a mistake could conclude to something sober. And, yes, thankful to some fat deserted birds, the flu came right in time. How do I explain the flu and that I don’t know why we hadn’t a one. You know, the temper, the dried skin that you can bite from another but save for the good. It was like kissing a sister, that you commit a sin with. Not as hard as it could be, as she got at the constancy, but not as dry as we might imagine. If the opposite side isn’t at point, than I’ll have to lick my elbow for eternity.