a b n o r m a l
j u n k
So the story
So the story:
He entered that old porch with cut wooden pieces and morning dew. Out of the fog. Out of nowhere.
The place.
When climbing the fences, be sure it's for surfing.
That would emerge, conclude with some sceptic glances.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment