Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting. They were coming toward where the flag was and I went along the fence.

Then the breathing, strained and short-winded. Panting. A snort. The white ground splits to allow the emergence of twisted acacias, with their rounded crowns and roots embedded deeply in the earth, and the thorny branches of mesquites

The night is long and cold, I need a hand. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet. Another line here and there goes next line.

Wild raspberry is not for you, nor the man like me. God provides me, god takes from me. You were the little rose, you're not anymore. Very well

The night is long and cold, I need a hand. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet. Another line here and there goes next line.

Saints and Art