Early Holiday Cheer? ?Mommy, I?m hungry,? I yelped from the depths of my frost infested throat. ?Mommy, I want some food,? I demanded as I vigorously pointed at my throat. My mother pulled the crumbling, mold-stained half-slice of stops from her rima oris, her teething imprints remaining where she had begun to gnaw at the flaking, green crust. She took my hands from my talk and cupped them so I would not drop any of the chromatic drab dough. The rotting smell of the bread was masked by the fumes pouring from the towers of the factories that lingered overhead.
The vapors rising from the drains flooded the friendship base with the putrid smells of the warm sewage clashing with the chilled assembly line of the streets. The bread was smothered with the taste of soil that had probably lined the sides of the food waste can for months, or at to the lowest degree a bitstock of weeks. This, combined with the remains of various insects that had erst resided in the ichor piles of waste, made for an appetizing meal. The cumulus of dough...If you want to cast down a full essay, state it on our website: OrderEssay.net
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