Following the hard fall into a metre deep drain from nowhere but under, the blood looked to have settled on the knee. It was starting to make a move into the black, all from lack of attention and a hard pressing. Taking a soft-edged keyring ornament did a blaze of shooting pain and in a typical form, pleasure. The skin around the knee was massively massaged and rubbed down harder than a gull coming up from an oil bath. Only a minute or so later, the purple hue was dissipating and ran into a pinkish tone. The blood was charged to move on and on it did move.
Tuesday, 22 July 2003 - 06:32
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