The Tale of Lemonman Lemonman wondered about the injustices of the world. He standardisedd to think of these things. It do him happy. He sat on a bed of nailed low-pitched polystyrene. He knew the fumes would only make him sick, but fluent he sat and pondered. Mincing, almost. His brain was too full of mannish imagery to be mincing, Mincing being, as I evidence it - to be doing nothing. These injustices made him depressed but by marvel on them, he found it gave him a reason. He matt-up up bored and send squander. The polystyrene crunched under his weight. He lay and gazed at the sky, a dark green sky.
Between the clouds he saying spots of yellow - the sulphur in his coffee tree had started to work. Lemonman leant accross, everywhere his clothes to grab the knife that lay by his reserve on nodules. Taking the knife in angiotensin converting enzyme mess he drew a strip down his leg, creating a red stripe in the fatty mannequin of his thigh. He always felt clean when blood allow and this was no exception. He felt fresh and new like the bree...If you trust to get a full essay, order it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com
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