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A Peculiar Pomengranate

One day a petulant pomegranate was racing around, hardly listening anymore tho the pips inside. But the pips inside were full and bursting with wisdom ready to impart upon other passing fruits and veg. But not meat. That was already dead really so no new information or education could be instructed. And it bounced and bounced and bounced like a little raging ball of energy. Impartiality impregnates improper introductory informative infer. And so the dust cart laughed. And laughed. Laughed so hard that the land was smothered in dust and flakes and water vapours poured from the eyes of a small white cherry bun. And certainly the end format is the given fragrance. Isometrics Z in quilts

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Book: Shattered Sighs