Dressed to make sense of sarcastically awrY peoples she’s having a good ol blast of bottles of inch dry whisky per mile.. an
Hour drive inside of her blue sports convertible with the riff$ turned UP and the roof mightily
Down. It’s been happening, it’s been napping at the wheel{from time to time}and it’s certainly
Taking a HELLuva long Arduous task of time for her ALPHA-male mind to play ‘dead’ with itself again. And if the persons sitting in their own concocted parts of the back seat really did want to
-deliver their own sense of extreme esteem and delirium then they should… “ask for a preordained break away… from being: beyond the Heat of the Beneath again.” And with… their minds in a silenceLIKE binD and their hair Up eVerYwheRe(!!)
She doesn’t really like to watch them make any such sense again inside her rearview mirror, only ever… her window into another PRESUMED TO BE perished soul’s
__ state of Vital ammunition.
