Improvement Our shadows under the arches with the sun and by bus. I've always dreamed of taking a bus crossed out, you told me. There are endless laps of the best assembly that others would call Bakeries, parallel lives and tell us to imagine that if you stop everything so at least we would still smiles. Running as a normal people in crowded markets. Nothing dirty mattresses, we have changed the linens, we opened the windows, we have fixed angles, this precarious existence seems to have become a fad rather than a status change, we had lists of things to improve mileage. And we still lose between landscapes of the countryside all the same, the fog surrounding us and only the endless sull'A4 accidents, including deaths that mobile phones will still be dead in three days and will be replaced. Without build on ancient legends even though they have had, say, a certain social utility.
