Rain into my living room

The playground was full of red garbage and the truck couldn’t fit. She left her bag next to the rooster and disappeared into the cave. Unfortunately, she wasn’t alone. The big panthers were trying to dig a hole as well. Far, far, far away, in another corner of tiramisu city, an old lady foresees the future. It was a long time ago. The time of car accidents. The period of time where people were driving furiously. Most probably because gas was cheap back then. Someone can find many ways to drive today. White scissors on the table and a fresh salad with nuts look at each other. Still, the time was not exciting. I wouldn’t necessarily walk on that trail, because it looks like it will rain soon. Left my umbrella behind. The carpet, my carpet, the beige carpet, the jug. I like it. I thank Archie that she gave it to me. Can hold the rain. It’s raining now. Reminders of stories. The rain and all the rains. Is my Zalando package late because of the rain? Is it raining already? I stopped counting time since my second coffee. Is the idea of quitting sugar relevant? What is the fass about sugar? Going back to the forest of cedars, someone can find songs of sugar. Melting in a pot and preparing to feed the children. The flies around me become annoying. I will open the window to leave them out. They go into a meadow. There is no meadow around here. We are in the center of a city. A capital. The meadows are not around. Is a great discovery. Like the telephone. Or the espresso machine. Ring bell tones echo the sound of stress. 

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