Riviere rouge, past the misshapened stones small medium browngraywhitepaleandspotted
over crested cement fissured inandout cracks cricketycrackfricketywackbacktackpeeseandtrack and boy she was as usual on her calloused unwashed albinopale mattress back awaiting her daily and sometime hourly sessions of
thrustywusty inandouting of the luckylivelyboingbongboingeddyboingjollyrogerplungeandlungebackandforthinsmallcircles-fleshprobehewangatang.
A popcycle stick on the pavement. Dex always seemed to look down. Step on crack, she won't want you back or was it you're mother would punch your back? Now passing beside old worn scrapped cracked crackalure layers on
fences and raillings on the way to the rooms smelling of sawdust and old cleaned up puke. The 300 pound ogre with one leg shorter that the other and a thick black rubber heel to help even those fat misshapen legs out and help him to walk better came to his mind. It seemed the female students didn't the ogre like that much or was it they had some perverse fantasies. Dex didn't care.
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