He wondered, was he the thief, or the authorities? Sometimes he felt like both, his writing seemed like he was running, but was he running towards so...ething or away from it? Other times he felt very much in pursuit, chasing his writing in maddening dashes, trying to get down every thought in his mind before it escaped him.-------------------------(next excerpt is not in line with above, so it may not flow as well--------------The smells at the beach were grand to say the least. The freshness. He's a brilliant poet, like his father. Fragile like him too. So he stays and crafts great poems and I go have adventures with Nick. We're doing what we love, and we're happy for each other." I guess that makes sense." So you're a goat and I'm a pervert. What do you think of us?" Perfect for each other?" You'll teach me about intimacy?" she asks after they laugh."For one of your well trained blow jobs, definitely." Asshole." You two haven't eaten a thing," the King informs them.They proceed in. More

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