Your last seven words.... magnificent.
Not surpassed by your previous seven words.
Go ahead.. tell me... how did your college graduation go? See he had missed time he had talked to you, The sound of a party so filled the backgtound. She may not have been drunk, but she was at least a few sheets to the wind.... He would tell you this... she sounded innocent. Simple, hiccuping voice above the din. He almost didn't know about the presence of George. Or Jorge. Or whatever. She was kind of busy.
He had only planned. Had only blinded his dreams. For her. He know. He was a fool. He drove. Across the staked plains regardless. He searched for answers. He heard her answer banal. Again the seven words. Save this time it was not as eloquent as your 'fuck'. No this time his surprise enttry was greeted by merely 'what the hell'. You would have to have time to grow into your words so eloquent. Way to go. By the way... how did your College degree turn out? Or that book about Gluten? Any progress. Did one George simply replace the other? At least she wouldn't have to change monograms... at least not to much.
Celebrate!
He digressed. She would achieve her life goals... as long as they didn't disrupt. The status quo. Death is slow inch by inch. But you won.
Salud.
Smile.
Clutch the one close to your bosom. Celebrate the victory,,, Dogma, dicta, proudly displayed.
You won.
Fly away on the wings of a grey goose... play games.... so rich... all after 10:30 p.m.. Appease ghosts from the past. They might satisfy the hollow soul, Go girl go. Clutch your deformed dream! The one in your arms. Or the one asleep by 1030 so you can begin your nocturnal adventures. Best of luck!
Rêves silencieux à celui qui efface sa réalité avec le toucher indifférent! Bonne nuit!
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