Swiftcurrent Creek Cars lining the streets, choking the place where kids could make believe
i found brimstone in my garden,
i found roses set on fire
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through her labored gagging she still had the ear in a determined grist-bite and continued to sink her milk-teeth into the same cartilage obstructing her priority to breathe. in fact she postured defensively when the umbrage of her mother hurled over her, and like a dog scarfing down cat vomit as its owner ran up screaming NO LEAVE IT, she put on the afterburners and stuffed more in, stifling a retch as the ear tickled her uvula. 

there was barely enough time to muster a dissenting bleat before she was scruffed and shaken like she had filched dimes in her pockets. ”hrhhrhrhrhrhbhrbhrbhrk….hrk..” her stomach was beginning to get a little upsetti spaghetti from all the motion and undigested milk, and after a few good rattles everything spewed out. milk and stomach acid eructed from her mouth and her nostrils. Wylla's feet were probable casualities.

now lubricated, the ear lodged in her craw slopped out into a slimy pile on the ground with the rest of the regurgitated gunge. Tiercel moaned with unease, falling limp in her mother’s mouth with her ears drooping in a pitiful outward splay as a shudder leafed through her body.
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