XIII

      "You must have sex with me."

      Was she drunk? Was she was really sane? Probably her sanity had been plagued. Or her sewn sanity had been torn by the intensity of malady hoisted hay leased on the apt azure. It sure wasn't the prime of sanity. She probably was trailing the track of nuances. Probably she'd mated with hibernated hooey and had no idea where to rehearse the acts. Was probably an offshoot of dark traces of malady moistened by folly. Well she could be the contraction of the large mouth of gnawing pride. Her makes of the pull and pangs of felon fate. Or probably punctured by pored pride.

      He wasn't sure of what to think. He actually wasn't new to the shenanigans she was basked in. He knew that he'd been dealing with it all the whiles and would continue once more. He knew that his choice had been truncated or chopped by the rigidity of her pride. O

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