Keep waiting

From Create Your Own Story

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The rose is beginning to seem less thorny as you drift into sleep....  Your eyes grow heavier and you can smell the flowers as they would smell in midsummer if they ever bloomed
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The rose bush becomes comfortable and heavy as you drift into sleep....  Your eyes slowly close and you can smell the pink buds as they would smell in midsummer if they ever bloomed....zzzz
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You begin to drift off into the sky. The sight of yellow dogs worrying a dead possum barely registers as you float above the ground.  From your rising vantage you can see your Babymamma. Pensieve and topless she lolls on the dirty sofa smoking a light cigarette.  The drunk manager becomes a tiny form hicupping in the  sun.  His sodden impreccations scarely reach your ears as the trailers diminish into flat rectangles.  
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You begin to drift off into the sky. The sight of filthy dogs worrying a dead possum barely registers as you float above the ground.  From your rising vantage you can see your Babymamma. Pensieve and topless, she lolls on the dirty sofa smoking a light cigarette.  The drunk manager becomes a tiny form hicupping in the  sun.  His sodden impreccations scarely reach your ears as the trailers diminish into flat rectangles.  
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From up here you can see the mountains roll on towards the horizon.  There is something likeable about them that you have never quite noticed before. They are like gentle green whales.  A radio tower gleams above a cut in the southwest.  Senator Bradshaw's new highway stretches north.  A glistening cloud rolls into huge candy buttresses above you.
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From up here you can see the mountains roll on towards the horizon.  There is something likeable about them that you have never quite noticed before from the ground. They are like gentle green whales.  A radio tower gleams above a cut in the southwest.  Senator Bradshaw's new highway stretches north.  A glistening cloud rolls into huge candy buttresses above you.
*[[Southwest]]
*[[Southwest]]

Revision as of 21:35, 8 December 2006

The rose bush becomes comfortable and heavy as you drift into sleep.... Your eyes slowly close and you can smell the pink buds as they would smell in midsummer if they ever bloomed....zzzz

You begin to drift off into the sky. The sight of filthy dogs worrying a dead possum barely registers as you float above the ground. From your rising vantage you can see your Babymamma. Pensieve and topless, she lolls on the dirty sofa smoking a light cigarette. The drunk manager becomes a tiny form hicupping in the sun. His sodden impreccations scarely reach your ears as the trailers diminish into flat rectangles.

From up here you can see the mountains roll on towards the horizon. There is something likeable about them that you have never quite noticed before from the ground. They are like gentle green whales. A radio tower gleams above a cut in the southwest. Senator Bradshaw's new highway stretches north. A glistening cloud rolls into huge candy buttresses above you.

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