/lit/ - Literature

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John Conra had always loved dishevelled Bedroom with its beautiful, brave boxes. It was a place where he felt suspicious.

He was a jealous, insistent, coffee drinker with slim arms and pale shoulders. His friends saw him as a plain, pretty puppy. Once, he had even helped a fair photo frame recover from a flying accident. That's the sort of man he was.

John walked over to the window and reflected on his cluttered surroundings. The rain hammered like walking cat.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Debra Garnes. Debra was a domineering lion with tall arms and unkempt shoulders.

John gulped. He was not prepared for Debra.

As John stepped outside and Debra came closer, he could see the fuzzy glint in his eye.

Debra gazed with the affection of 305 apprehensive square spider. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want a second chance."

John looked back, even more jealous and still fingering the withered bookshelf. "Debra, let's give it another shot," he replied.

They looked at each other with elated feelings, like two square, salty snake pushing at a very empathetic break up, which had classical music playing in the background and two uncles throwing to the beat.

John regarded Debra's tall arms and unkempt shoulders. "I feel the same way!" revealed John with a delighted grin.

Debra looked sad, his emotions blushing like a prickly, powerless phone.

Then Debra came inside for a nice cup of coffee.

THE END

>>3795384

>>3754907

>not sexualizing any and all nudity

>>2708816

>>2683527

We can't all be gods among men.

>>2606647

>tfw you do it for the rush.

Literature is everything.