People were sad. They formed a village and called it Happy Happy. Everything was painted blue: the houses, the cows, their clothes dyed blue. All was sweetness and lights until he saw a vision of children, dancing outside a chimney, rain beneath a silk curtain. From that point on Mr. Carpainter was a saint, a prophet, a messenger of God. His
(
Read more... )
Comments 47
Reply
Reply
I saw your name in my friend-list, and the awful thought reached my poor brain - didn't you mistaken? I'm russian, creasy russian guy. Do you know some russians? I'm sure, you don't. We are like in RedHot with Arny, wild, cruel, cold, muscle.
I wonder, what you hope to find in my strange notices to God? :)
In great interest, sincerely me,
aruta&all that
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment