Venom
By birksy
He spat the venom from his mouth, little droplets formed on the floor, enough to kill a grown man, whatever that might be. He apologised, it so rarely happens, nowadays, and it's something he can't control all by himself. Then, when the cleaner comes with a bucket and mop, it's soon dispensed with, cleared beyond oblivion. Growing up, shedding of those skins, guess it's that time again. Written March 11th, 2002 © on Mar 11 2002 07:43 AM PST, Simon Birks 0 • 10
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"He spat the venom from his mouth,..."