“You shudder beneath the orange glow, the wet reptile streets, while heading back to the muted torture of your dirty room, where some cruel memory sours the walls, viciously, like wisps of a flaming hell.”
“You shudder beneath the orange glow, the wet reptile streets, while heading back to the muted torture of your dirty room, where some cruel memory sours the walls, viciously, like wisps of a flaming hell.”
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