what a grim fascination.
Never ideation manifestation.
What a cowardly preoccupation.
Jagged stones took the brunt of the seas turbulence. Waves crashed, foamed, and receded from wet, mossy stone. Jenson peered down, marking a place below. Champion of horseshoe at home. He leaped from the dramatic scene, swallowed by the angry sea, ragdolled against stone of slimy green, receding into a foamy dream; never again to be seen.
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