#notebook #11

The hours
The face of the clock
The time disolves in the air

A marriage, a little exchange of vows
A little bits of table manners

Time,hours ,minutes passing in the glass clock. A stream of sand,silica and tears.

It was a night of tears and sorrow.

Doubt was planted in his heart by Satan, he whispered into the confessional box. A tear..a lonely tear down his cheek.

She was a nun on a mission to convert Hollywood to holywood. 

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