Honey. Ruby 
That evening saw players grind sad note in front of empty chairs, like animals in a cage fight in town that was the time. In the night he had some fantastic dreams and even nightmares. God who was smoking a huge Cuban cigar, the land that slowed down to every death of a poet, someone who had magnetic copy of the Constitution the delicatessen able without any difficulty, to pay the bill, many who enroll in lists of immobility, and, when it was almost morning, Walter Chiari. He woke up distinctly heard his voice yelling "Come on, idiot." Sitting on the bed, sweating, panting rolling his eyes. Through the open window on the world entered a sunbeam. With his mouth open and tongue out he tried to lick the heat. When the light invaded he decided to become a serial killer. He took a cigarette from the pack that was on the table, lit it, inhaled with gusto, slowly. Soon after Wood died on the floor thinking about stopping smoking, but then, on second thought, decided to stop thinking. " If I could write I would devote to literature, if I could read to become a writer. "He said." Banality is indestructible as a plastic bottle as well, such as plastic, recyclable. "He concluded. Then he went into the kitchen and made a coffee . The sugar was over. The jar of honey is still intact.
That evening saw players grind sad note in front of empty chairs, like animals in a cage fight in town that was the time. In the night he had some fantastic dreams and even nightmares. God who was smoking a huge Cuban cigar, the land that slowed down to every death of a poet, someone who had magnetic copy of the Constitution the delicatessen able without any difficulty, to pay the bill, many who enroll in lists of immobility, and, when it was almost morning, Walter Chiari. He woke up distinctly heard his voice yelling "Come on, idiot." Sitting on the bed, sweating, panting rolling his eyes. Through the open window on the world entered a sunbeam. With his mouth open and tongue out he tried to lick the heat. When the light invaded he decided to become a serial killer. He took a cigarette from the pack that was on the table, lit it, inhaled with gusto, slowly. Soon after Wood died on the floor thinking about stopping smoking, but then, on second thought, decided to stop thinking. " If I could write I would devote to literature, if I could read to become a writer. "He said." Banality is indestructible as a plastic bottle as well, such as plastic, recyclable. "He concluded. Then he went into the kitchen and made a coffee . The sugar was over. The jar of honey is still intact. 
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