wake up and smell the coffee. . stirring a word the conversation obsurd. like the herbs of work their pattiences and concured. wake up and smell the coffee.
From the point he gazed, from the choice was made. But walk the cave or the shore. The oily cave seemed to breathe on him from gravestone jaws. His little hand grasped in anguish as he weighed up his coin.
I am really okay, thanks, there's nothing to witness. I said as I look back from the edge of a cliff. The old man looking down, lend over the bridge. Stood with a grin as if a blessing had hit him.