Thursday, July 28, 2011

Thousand: Four Hundred Fifty-Three

never quite got there. What was it? I think they have a snack bar. Does hell have a snack bar?” Sir gets up, scratches his chin with a back foot, shakes his head, and pops down the steps of the gazebo. The cowboy and the innkeeper went into the house while Bernie was talking to the dog, or to himself, more likely. There being no food left to pick at, other than salt cellar and pepper grinder, Bernie drives a spoon in circles around his empty plate. The dog has disappeared into the high grass, though Bernie thinks he sees

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