For many soiled dishes that you stack up in, on, and around the sink. This sight greets me, waves to me like a pendulum, luring me to leave the added baggage weight that I just got, after returning from the University.
For the refuse, that we refuse to keep in our rooms. Not only are these defiled objects thrown into the kitchen bin, they are left there to rot, overflowing the house on 26 Heaton with spicy scents of the orient and nauseating stinks of the west.
A day never passes by when I don’t think about you. You take my mind off the cat, which meows and scratches on my head, revealing the folds of my brain.
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