He had but a five pound note crisp, and folded in his pocket as he walked through the bright red door into the bookies. He started on the slot machines, the collection of various fruits
She wonders through the smokey mist that hangs in the air, seemingly searching perhaps for a friend or perhaps for love, it's neither infact, the way she's dressed
(Sloth: is the neglect to take care of something that one should do) 57th street down town chicargo, he's walking at a casual pace, early, as usual, he's ten minutes
With arms wide open like jesus on the cross shoulders sqaure to finger tips, we let things in with no defence, and eventually we repent this decision. With arms closed shut
There's a freshness in the air, as the cold wind bites at my face, the white ground blanketing all the grey of the world on any other day, there's just something about snow