Breathing towards restraint as the frosting from photographs burned like a childhood globe emanates. There were red shoes all up and down the ladder, each of which held virtue like a Submarine sandwich. Brown and dexterous, the laces of which curled like telephones in the presence of statuettes. The collision of hatred spoke over the ambition of several decades of interest. A key on a piano bounced up and down with no carousel to pay for the number.
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