A cube mechanics. Incidental music.
box odor traveling. With ups and downs. Opens and closes periodically. Swallows and spits out a small messenger humanity.
9 am. Hot coffee, fresh fragrances, deodorant and hair conquerors flagpoles.
Hello, said the perfume. I pushed a little sorry I take instead. I hugged briefly, I twisted, and Voas passes between his legs, behind the loins of your neighbor. In a burst, a hand movement to check a hairstyle, I return you tickle the nose. Squinting does point I'm not stopping. So, I got there, I go down. Oh, sorry I still have a little brief remainder of patchouli evaporating finally devoured by the huge fellow who enters the cube scrolls deployed. American know-how, cap aldehyde and muscles of white cedar taste of chalk. The nostrils squeak, a weary eyes behold the gray ceiling of the box, when are we there? Phew, it does not linger. Escapes, then lost in the corridors of 4em. A moment of silence. Mocha resumed his little jingle peaceful then sweet waves splash the cramped space. Cuckoo, "said another fellow, I am the ball of vanilla, I bounced in all directions without being able to restrain myself, and as I am wrapped in caramel liquid I leave invisible traces on your arms, your shoulders when you brushing me. How amusing, I am a scent that sticks! I notice the smiles of greed, sometimes it pushes me a sigh. Whatever, I run my rounds, then file at full speed as soon as thrush and seafront link. Pure synthetic air. It soared. Why, no, the next stop, although the cube continues its upward travel, we fall flush of daisies level grass clippings. Grass to cows or bunch of bananas? Whatever the label, the same molecule anyway. The early delivery
carefully paid, the cube, then, operates often empty during the day. It stores in the meantime. It sometimes breaks down as soon as the doors open.
Ah! Finally somebody. Hello, welcome to the box. You know me, I'm Shalimar, director of product 5em? You do not see me of course, but you recognize my scent. I moved here 20 minutes ago, for a journey of 3 floors. But I have so many shoulders and, I confess, I miss a little levity. But what a wake ... do not you think? Yes, yes, make the peony the 8em, who unsuccessfully tried to outdo the vanillin-civet of the dowager in 1925. Next stop, the two gossips strangled. A hurricane sweeps emotionless and scatters flowers and amber. "To your wishes," replied sweetly pretty girl with peony. "Berci," replied the man going full wall that seeps through every pore of his skin ointment eucalyptus, orange blossom in oral spray, and the old tobacco clinging to the fibers of his jacket. The man sniffs. The cube does not budge, and continues to rake. Until tonight.
18 hours. No coffee. Some traces of sweat, a whiff of wipes, hair and soft eyes at half mast. Pear shampoo brandishes his half empty baskets, WD mango nosed version pinecone. Peony murmur a little, but brave breathless, some fruit syrups to support his speech. Shalimar boards, bright and serene, and still takes a lot of space, sorry, sorry we shoot please. Vanilla sugar barley, true to herself, ruffling a few people, patchouli flourishes and becomes hot. Large protein musks, so valiant, fusants, stunning and furious in the morning, feeling deflated and the turn sour for the most part. When is it that men will they stop abusing anti-humidity deodorant?
Night falls. The cube stopped. In her dark womb, the last whorls are slowly stretched, then digested brewed. The scent of cleaning agents, lemon and jasmine metal diaphanous ultimate participants sarabande, are also dissolved and swallowed. Yet in a corner a few particles resist again and again. They accumulate in silence, forgotten benefit of dirt to protect themselves and each morning when the doors open to welcome the first shipment, a gust of wind, which rub soles and release, and labdanum Shalamar a little messed up, blind, bald, but identifiable soars again. "Hi I revoilou! "The day
resumed.
box odor traveling. With ups and downs. Opens and closes periodically. Swallows and spits out a small messenger humanity.
9 am. Hot coffee, fresh fragrances, deodorant and hair conquerors flagpoles.
Hello, said the perfume. I pushed a little sorry I take instead. I hugged briefly, I twisted, and Voas passes between his legs, behind the loins of your neighbor. In a burst, a hand movement to check a hairstyle, I return you tickle the nose. Squinting does point I'm not stopping. So, I got there, I go down. Oh, sorry I still have a little brief remainder of patchouli evaporating finally devoured by the huge fellow who enters the cube scrolls deployed. American know-how, cap aldehyde and muscles of white cedar taste of chalk. The nostrils squeak, a weary eyes behold the gray ceiling of the box, when are we there? Phew, it does not linger. Escapes, then lost in the corridors of 4em. A moment of silence. Mocha resumed his little jingle peaceful then sweet waves splash the cramped space. Cuckoo, "said another fellow, I am the ball of vanilla, I bounced in all directions without being able to restrain myself, and as I am wrapped in caramel liquid I leave invisible traces on your arms, your shoulders when you brushing me. How amusing, I am a scent that sticks! I notice the smiles of greed, sometimes it pushes me a sigh. Whatever, I run my rounds, then file at full speed as soon as thrush and seafront link. Pure synthetic air. It soared. Why, no, the next stop, although the cube continues its upward travel, we fall flush of daisies level grass clippings. Grass to cows or bunch of bananas? Whatever the label, the same molecule anyway. The early delivery
carefully paid, the cube, then, operates often empty during the day. It stores in the meantime. It sometimes breaks down as soon as the doors open.
Ah! Finally somebody. Hello, welcome to the box. You know me, I'm Shalimar, director of product 5em? You do not see me of course, but you recognize my scent. I moved here 20 minutes ago, for a journey of 3 floors. But I have so many shoulders and, I confess, I miss a little levity. But what a wake ... do not you think? Yes, yes, make the peony the 8em, who unsuccessfully tried to outdo the vanillin-civet of the dowager in 1925. Next stop, the two gossips strangled. A hurricane sweeps emotionless and scatters flowers and amber. "To your wishes," replied sweetly pretty girl with peony. "Berci," replied the man going full wall that seeps through every pore of his skin ointment eucalyptus, orange blossom in oral spray, and the old tobacco clinging to the fibers of his jacket. The man sniffs. The cube does not budge, and continues to rake. Until tonight.
18 hours. No coffee. Some traces of sweat, a whiff of wipes, hair and soft eyes at half mast. Pear shampoo brandishes his half empty baskets, WD mango nosed version pinecone. Peony murmur a little, but brave breathless, some fruit syrups to support his speech. Shalimar boards, bright and serene, and still takes a lot of space, sorry, sorry we shoot please. Vanilla sugar barley, true to herself, ruffling a few people, patchouli flourishes and becomes hot. Large protein musks, so valiant, fusants, stunning and furious in the morning, feeling deflated and the turn sour for the most part. When is it that men will they stop abusing anti-humidity deodorant?
Night falls. The cube stopped. In her dark womb, the last whorls are slowly stretched, then digested brewed. The scent of cleaning agents, lemon and jasmine metal diaphanous ultimate participants sarabande, are also dissolved and swallowed. Yet in a corner a few particles resist again and again. They accumulate in silence, forgotten benefit of dirt to protect themselves and each morning when the doors open to welcome the first shipment, a gust of wind, which rub soles and release, and labdanum Shalamar a little messed up, blind, bald, but identifiable soars again. "Hi I revoilou! "The day
resumed.
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