You can't take back the spoken word. In Lingoland that was a reality. Whatever you say will be floating around. That's why Lolo's mother got divorced. Her husband came across the sweet nothings she told her lover as a teenager. He found them bouncing off a college wall while he was painting it. Some politicians had to flee the land after their election promises surfaced at the most inappropriate times. So now no one speaks in Lingoland. They carry slates to communicate.
Looks like the fog just spared my window to the street. The street lights looked liking smokers in an alley. The cobble stones were wet from the drizzle. The street dogs were busy barking at something. A breeze just unsettled the garbage can's lid. My world hasn't changed much. Everyday I look for some sign of change. Nothing seems to change. I have grown bald. My eyesight has dimmed. My kids have grown. The window pane has gathered dust and dirt. The spiders have evolved. Some old buildings have given way to new ones. The neon signs have gone. Still nothing seem to have changed. Change they say has to come from within. But then, what can come out of an empty narrow dead end?
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