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THE woman like THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the pain whiteness of the airline ticket stood out adjacent to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a thing of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, essential in electronic music. And there, there they were, tilt to face, without smoke, without others to occupy a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in cool Japanese, as soon as the water dancing something like the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her question was not answered subsequent to words flowing from Stas lips, but like his skirmish of heartwarming his feet on the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last cup of tea, she remained motionless, in the sam

THE girl as soon as THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the painful feeling whiteness of the airline ticket stood out next to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a business of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, vital in electronic music. And there, there they were, perspective to face, without smoke, without others to fill a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in frosty Japanese, later than the water dancing all but the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her ask was not answered when words flowing from Stas lips, but as soon as his feat of moving his feet upon the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last cup of tea, she remained motionless, gone the letter

THE girl in the manner of THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the hurting whiteness of the airline ticket stood out adjacent to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a business of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, essential in electronic music. And there, there they were, slant to face, without smoke, without others to occupy a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in frosty Japanese, taking into account the water dancing nearly the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her question was not answered when words flowing from Stas lips, but past his proceedings of disturbing his feet upon the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last mug of tea, she remained motionl

Dear Sir/Ma'am, Once again, This is Mr.Mykhailo Vladimir from Ukraine. I am re-sending you this note today as a reminder to my proposal below that I sent to your address: juanmanuel052017.karlon5@blogger.com on the 22/5/2023 . Due to the instability as a result of the Russia war predicament that has affected my country Ukraine. And as you can see right now that my country Ukraine has become totally displaced. For this reason, I would like to make a proposal to move out some funds directly to you for a Joint Partnership business establishment with you in your country that would possibly yield remarkable results in the near future for us. For more discussion If interested, Please send me an email at; mykhaylovladimir5@gmail.com Or add me on WhatsApp: +380-98-733-6894 Your quick response will be highly appreciated. Thanks with best regards, Mykhailo Vladimir.