The Tallyman by Franko Sinatra |
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A sharp pain was wrenching my guts, or was it my chest? Cripes it hurt to open my eyelids. Moving my eyeballs up and to the right was the most exercise I had done in a month. All I could see was the soothing, softly bubbling amber curtain. It was relaxing looking through my half finished beer. I felt my right eye closing. So tired. Perhaps to dream... |
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