The teeth had risen white once like Kilimanjaro. But they were past their time. They would pass, as a leopard does. On the white slopes. They would one by one go. Quickly.
And he would feel no pain. A dead leopard in snow. Under ether? He did not know.
He would eat M&Ms and the teeth would still gleam, white and dying.
Monday, October 24, 2011
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