torstai 10. huhtikuuta 2014

Short story sleep

Sea Symphony Orchestra blew alto horn , can breathe. The waves beat into the power of
 blue arc first public reading you. Seahorses joined a ballet performance , korkeimpienvaahtopäiden on. Great natural disaster forces had begun ,
autumn talked about the start of his remarks . Mermaids touches on a mixed choir .
Sirens were shipwrecked ready reference. The wind blew icily , its power reached as far as the North Pole . The last fairy , flying with the wind , wrapped in a bright red maple leaf. unknown to the world and people mingled with time , the time clung to the tail of the world's last star.

I am a writer of praise for the autumn I started , I started to write last time the fairy tale story of fragrances . Short stories that told a different world , where time was shipped through the port . It took the road to the unknown. The center of the galaxy gas warmed , the unpredictable future of black holes. It's time the world was certain consumers of the kingdom . Up- eaters , were related to the sirens of the sea , the newer generation of vamppeja live in eternity . The new unknown dimension full of unpredictable, suddenly appearing ghostly stems. I am a writer , I was welcome to their world. Because they knew that no one thought my readers to the stories that I wrote them in my books . We the people are like grains of rice on the cliff the sun is shining . So the universe is unsafe for our continent . You can look at the writer's eyes , there you can see the words
dancing in the autumn symphony of pace. Love, hate , fighting the weakness of flesh , the writer inside it to hide. Want to know how to write a short story , it is his
restless soul secretly waiting. Who is the writer to polish the plate too melancholy ?
Maybe I'm the wrong place at the center of galaxies , I fall symphony tunes I listen carefully . I feel the love that hurt too much , I listen to the sea symphony of the autumnal feelings into words to write. Caring too much , too much sentimentality life position or not. Everything has a place somewhere, alone in the jungle of my wheels .
I want to be staring at the lights of heaven , a place where life pulsates rampant .
I let go of my word , I will give riimieni to come out . In my book here , an adventure flight of the butterfly , kopisee sheet-metal wings to the space insect. I see visions , metal flange humanoid , with technical cuckoo chick.

Heavenly clear the army of the laser with lights . The expansive space , the angels barefoot ,
dancing with a tarantula , or singing jazz at the Hosanna . How do we then
placed in the mouth , already a star in the sky crashing into the loose floating in the bath vannaan ?

There were stars in which no one was allowed to enter ever. They were invisible to ordinary people , but those who was with the angel a soul knew of their existence . There, a man was taken against the soul of the creator of all that is called God . , It is called the angels of His Father .. There were secrets that hid inside the space . Crystals island , immortalized the place where there was no sin remained hidden from everyone. At least until someone could find the key

the immortal souls of the valley. There was a time in seven road closed gate,
Whose was standing in front of each one terrible, extinct monster. Airships that were mistakenly drifted off course away from reality as Emmylou hard aground, turned the command of the Almighty into the cold of space landscape. Their engine rooms were now silent, broken rope clips depending on toward the earth's surface . The one who did not look carefully, do not even separated the place stagnant air ships. They seemed merged into the ranks of the clouds as if they had been there for thousands of years .

The reality is just a dream, you can see in one of the world's humanity . I guess yesterday was not all, and tomorrow does not arrive at any time . What is the concept of time , whether it's one big illusion , some strange magic ? Dark blue velvet is thrown somewhere to hang , glued to the tin stars, who was a witch who cast a spell on the last read ? Sewn , or was created by the asterisks in space ? I have seen too many dreams, they are full of color images, which are sometimes
there is too much fun. Was I ever in a fairy tale, it 's the woman Cinderella shoes ?
Now arrived at noon , it will soon be over already , and already turned into a frog prince , a pumpkin , and my carriage .

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