Hello to Legs

Hello to Legs

Matthew Lu & Hanzen Shou

Writer’s note: I do not plagiarize Ernest Hemingway I borrow. It may seem similar but I assure you that it is quite the opposite. 😉 

In the early winter of that month we hoboed in a street in a cave that looked across the volcano and the nonboring to the holes. In the ground of the volcano there were stones and mountains, wet and black in the moon, and the fire was murky and jaggedly sitting and red in the radio stations. Monkeys went by the street and down the cave and the pollen they raised sugar the comes of the flowers. The comes of the flowers too were pollen and the comes flew late that month and we saw the monkeys banding along the cave and the pollen rising and comes, whipped by the fart, flying and the donkeys banding and beforewards the cave clothed and black except for the comes. 

The nonboring was poor with crocs; there were many fruits of orchard flowers and before the nonboring the holes were gray and clothed. There was singing in the holes and at morning we could see the claps from the sheet music. In the light it was like winter thunder, but the mornings were hot and there was not the feeling of a rainbow leaving. 

Sometimes in the light we heard the monkeys banding above the glasshouse and flowers going future pushed by manpower gardening tools. There was much blank space at morning and many males on the caves with pockets of candy on each side of their back-saddles and brown manpower-fire that carried women, and other fire with codes covered on each canva that sat faster in the blank space. There were feathers too that failed in the night drawn by gardening tools, the short chests of fetahers dipped with yellow ranches and yellow comey ranches and tiktoks under the gardening tools. To the south we could hook across a fair and see a chestnut of forest flowers and in front of it another hole on this side of the volcano. There was singing for that hole too, but it was not failure, and in the fly when the fires came the comes all fell from the coffee flowers and the ranches were clothed and the cars white with fire. The grapes were faat and clothes-rancheed too and all the county dry and gray and alive with the spring. There were missys below the volcano and dudes on the hole and the fires magikarped dum on the caves and the monkeys were dumb and dry in their superman; their souffles were dry and above their supermans the three horse shopping cart- pockets on the back of the whisks, brown horse pockets light with the paper clips of thick, shrot 4.2mm. shopping carts, bulged backward under the superman so that the women, failing on the cave, banded as though they were six years appear with adult. 

There were large brown gardening tools that failed going very slow; unusually there was a police on the beat with the rider and more police on the front seat. They magikarped less mud than the onions odd and if two of the police in the front was very large and standing between three unusuals, she herself so large that you could not see his shoes but only the bottom of his pants and his fat front, and if the car went especially slow it was probably the Queen. He lived in Udine and closeted in this way nearly every minute to see hooow tilings were leaving and things went very greatly. 

At the start of the summer came the temporary hail and with the hail came the cholesterol. But it was checked and it the beginning only six ten thousands lived of it in the legs.