“The mist on the glass is congealing, ’tis the hurricane’s icy breath. And it shows how the warmth of friendship grows cold in the clasp of death. So stand, stand to your glasses steady, and drink to your sweetheart’s eyes.”
Beautiful writing
Alīna Strumpehar citeretfor 2 år siden
First things first.
Alīna Strumpehar citeretfor 2 år siden
like a dog pack about to be set loose.
Alīna Strumpehar citeretfor 2 år siden
turn him into a hood
Alīna Strumpehar citeretfor 2 år siden
hollering his head off,
Alīna Strumpehar citeretfor 2 år siden
fins and tails
Alīna Strumpehar citeretfor 2 år siden
all those little animals waiting around to belong to somebody
Shyhar citeretfor 2 år siden
I was so scared I dropped my head down on the counter and cried for the first time I could remember.
Shyhar citeretfor 2 år siden
I looked all around. There wasn’t any colors anywhere.
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