The bombardment and cannons went on till past twelve last night.
I hope that was it. The end of explosive devices.
Somewhere a child's heart is laughing.
Sod off, ya little cretin.
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LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
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WATCHED PAINT NEVER DRIES
Here's the sad thing: work runs me through the wringer, and after a few days at the salt mines I feel distinctly knocked around and wrun...
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