A FACE ONLY A DYKE COULD LOVE...

perpertually neutral soaked in sweat and sweets he gasps out a little "y" shorthand for 3 minutes. he climbs to the top of the kitchenett and perpetually lives there on almonds and beans and secret voice thoughts.
using a curved needle and thread she empties the gun and explains why he cant have it anymore. she clips the tape plastic at the end eats it
back