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Feather Dusters, Fried Catfish

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Juliette was cleaning up her notebook stash. She gave me back a notebook each of us has owned for awhile. She drew a page of trousers and skirts, another one of eyeglasses, and some feather dusters. Before she drew those things, I owned the notebook, and put this in it:

Cut-up of Fried Catfish, Anger
Crockery being through the Chinatowns of North America clang, crash, clack, while your heart sobs parked cars. Carpet completely denies the fact that egg out of her dropping on the pavement and accumulated entropy of trees & ceiling dropping from each person's skin, not to mention only an angry woman wears eyeliner like that. No. Gnashes its teeth. Runs away from ordinary catfish. Catfish will suck your seratonin. I do love scented naked crust walker's life. Please tell me you know better. Sometimes you wish for that. Cutlery being clanged so the clanging would reach past the bells of London.

Here are the feather dusters:

feather dusters


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