last thursday evening

1974 Mirages and hovercraft shaped like waffles streak over the horizonfrom the east. Spume, fume and plume. Metallic red, sharp outlines andshown from obtuse angles. Reach New York. The bombardier wearinglederhosen and octagonal glasses frames pulls the lever releasingthe payload
high grade
self propelled
66% cocoa liquid gushed through the canyons covering everything. Ladiesand gentlemen TheChocolate Makers have spoken.
Unexpected was that, for the rest of the week racism died. No one could tell who was what – everyone a smooth mmm-mmm dark brown.

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