gets up a knife blessed by the sun hazy horizon slurries. Kraken lying on the ground, bathed in a whole clotted blood, a few teeth out of the hinge, black eyes and split. The sand is very cold, but it is a soft bed that receives its Mebra broken and twisted.
smiling with a strength and idiotic to decerebration ch entries from that sun rises to a new beginning for humanity now pays its lackluster consumer entropy. The world will continue its quick beat: purging children pregnant women, infants are shit addososo sure that someone will clean them primae then, men will get up and go to work, retired people will go to the club to play cards, the gravediggers dig the graves, the bodies continue to rot under their three meters of land (the lucky ones) and the crows will persist with their slow circling on this fucking feast of blood.
Kraken wipes the dried blood that clogs your nose sore. You drag to the shore and a refreshing ocean roaring in the great reservoir of resentment in the morning. Big mistake: the rooms opens an entrance through the wounds still stinging as well hatched purple flower anemones.
curses follow a matryoshka. Seems exhausted when the last one here who emerges.
Kraken sweeping clothes wrinkled, spotted near her placed acravatta the plasma, collected his jacket smoke of London found that blind and besieged by seagulls beccanti a few feet from his pallet and to a bloody start somewhere.
The only thing I know is that the sun is behind him. Kraken
Try to remember, try to remember. Where does the bastard who gave you so small? He felt instinctively
in the pockets of his now ex-favorite jacket. In the right pocket is unlembodi squared paper with the address written on a certain Dan Brown in London, but turned folgietto and read a little note that said: "I do not believe his words." In the left pocket here is that Pearl is a small white sheet, very lightweight, India paper, with words written on it in large letters penned by his own hand: "Be careful to Opus Dei."
suddenly recalled that the bunch of bastards who had beaten in that sleazy car were dressed in black, wore glasses and every kick and fist that was going to sign asking for forgiveness from God
Kraken smiled a canine less but much more fierce than usual: the Opus of today would have been a bad time.
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