The look suspended in time, she listens and sees a dozen hedgehogs carrying around in his head, they dance a jig in his cymbals asthma, leave the undergrowth for the carnival, a ride of bumper cars , Drool with excitement when the barley sugar, leave smelling of grease, epic epic, all prickles out to the grove where the clothes will no longer make the monk, which will no longer erectile style, where the mop does be more rebellious since the danger of getting crushed passed.
Then, crippled for life, fall asleep, it will be issued this cryptic scenario, these cliches pasty, this plot heavy, sticky ... for one, two, three? more, less?
Lambeaux nebulous in its memory flashbacks misty green background, on canvas intimate past that obsesses on rebus tragic journey.
Belle would her life if she could defy the waves of his folly and turn the nightlight reassuring! Excellent
earlier this week in which you see me pass, without interpreting one way or another my moment of madness:))
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