Time Travel and Murder

In English by Thom CorbeauxLeave a Comment

I fashionably started walking in a slow pace just to have the time to get on par with the breeze. It’s such joy to be connected with the elements and make up for the lost link that we had in the old days.

The runes are just a trendy statement saying that you’re in touch with your pagan ancestors.

Love is fat. Said the skinny beauty and kept on puking. The bathroom stall chit-chat ended in a loud barf made by a corpulent boy who was nibbling on his last cheeseburger. (hamburgers are so 90s).

Happily married a shoe, which makes me the most happiest non-shoe alive. She’s frantic. A little bit of terrific. Does want much of me, but I never give it to her (pun intended). I feel I might take her virginity away, which to me is a holy grail that I get to posses. Jesus started sucking on his thumb cause the mythical game of hide-the-holy-grail is over.

The psycho son of a senile lady threatened to kill her again if she gets up from bed. I overheard this monologue when passing by their window. They live on the 3rd floor of a round building. I love this action-packed corner. There’s a pharmacy in the basement of this building. No one ever goes there, except the employees. It’s always closed, though.

Cats make love every night in the inner-yard of my apartment building. They live in a lush jungle that was left behind to rot. I’d like to live there. There are so many places like this one.

They all thought they were free until they found out that they were.

Renaissance men loved their plump wives. They married them for bodily wealth. Secretly, they made love to their skinny mades in the pantry.

“You tell interesting stories of the future Corbeaux,” noted Sokrates, “Now tell me something about time travel, will you?”

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