Villainess’s Sweet Everyday

I don't know yet. Not yet, I don't think Curry is yet. You don't like vegetables, I'd like to say something. You're still shuddering inside of me as a certainty without the spirit of a child being buried. I rhythm on the table. Just. Just.

"Mr. Maricana, stop playing nursery rhymes"

Awful, even though this was still popular classical music. Disappointed. I'll be discouraged and wait for the curry. Come on. Come on, Curry. Come on.

The brown table glues around. My heart also decides waltz and sharply angles my foot judgment.