Call for me and I will tell you what I have learned, that we make an addiction of time and memory, eating and idleness. That chestnut leaves drape like the hands of effete gentlemen in the moments of their unfurling.
These are the days of softness and indolence. These are the days of rags and witches and ribbon covered flails. A candy-marshmallow-churning-bicycle whipped its way through the night forest. There are bells on the handlebars and I can hear it singing Shakespeare when it rumbles by.
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