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3 thoughts on “34. . .

  • looking out his drab window in his towewr of glass, his eyes focused on the handsome youth with wild hair, could I ever throw off these shackles, foresake the gods of silver and gold and just be happy instead of doing as I’m told. He shivered at the thought of it, an image of delight and thoughts of rebelling like a young man when the juices of loving flow in his loins. He rubbed his eyes smiling unseen at the young man, then picked up the phone, data shown from his laptop as he closed the deal.

  • As David Gilmore’s words painting in song, “We’re On An Island”

  • another full and rich word painting, friend! You capture real life in a true yet rich way!
    xx
    ran

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