‘It’s one of those nights. I can taste it at the back of my throat. One of those slick, dark, sharp nights. The day’s rain has left a gleam on every sidewalk that could put a new razorblade to shame. The shallow end puddles are reflecting the unsullied stars; tempting the broken and the lonely to come on down before the sun rises and drown themselves in the illusions waiting for them in the gutter.’
Please Note - This is the second part of the ongoing social experiment Blog Sweet Blog. Make sure you have read part one before reading this. Read it thoroughly, read it out loud to a pet, and do your best to note the subtext regarding British Imperialism and the birth of the roller skate.
There will be test later…
…when you least expect it.
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