it finally stopped raining
it finally stopped raining but she was long gone *done* i was not sad only a bit lonely but that would heal in time it was the smell of her…
what about all the cats
what about all the cats all great writers are lovers of cats hemingway kerouac vonnegut cats cats cats dogs are fine cats are refine little monsters with murder mittens teeth…
nothing she could tell me
nothing she could tell me she said it with anger and a three-martini lisp sat out on the balcony of the old new orleans hotel it hit knocked the breath…
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