household words- Charles Dickens- bleak house-
AS MUCH MUD IN THE STREETS AS IF THE WATERS HAD BUT NEWLY RETIRED FROM THE FACE OF THE EARTH, AND WOULD IT NOT BE WONDERFUL TO MEET A MEGALOSAURUS FORTY FEET LONG WADDLING LIKE AN ELEPHANTINE LIZARD UP HOLBORN HILL'
The rain drooping down on his tilted head, a scene of spiky green folliage, and air similar to the breath of crocodiles in Florida: his cheeks and eyes frozen, the sound of cars in the rain, the comfort of shops and homes to dwell, with ones spiky tail round a wicker chair listening to human footsteps above, creeks and fucking pasta sauce melting. Licking his lips with one instant action, climbing from this abode, he now lay in a different palace.
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