Once upon a time, time didn't exist. Life was dull and rather grey-colored and occasionally read books on accounting. One morning (though morning also didn't exist), Life was reading an extremely boring passage about the number five and its uses in making people very upset, when he had an idea. This was an unexpected thing. Manifestations of ideas
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I wrote her a more upbeat one last night. It's about love and pickles. I may post it on here later.
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