Nothing Was Quite Like It Was Supposed

It's Us," Stephen Said. "oh, Thank God," Said A Voice. Callum Emerged From Behind The Dumpster. Even With All That Was Going On, It Was Hard Not To Take Notice Of This: He Wore Only His Underpants And His Socks And Shoes. ...i Don't Think I Hid My Staring Very Well Either. "go Ahead And Change," Stephen Said, Handing Me The Bag. "i'll Go And Get The Car." "please Be Quick," Callum Added. "this Is Not As Fun As It Appears.

What Are You?" I Asked. "i'm The Ghost Of The Night Before Exams." "and How Long Did It Take You To Come Up With That?" Jazza Asked. "i'm A Busy Man," He Replied.

Something About Her Suggested That Her Leisure Activities Included Wrestling Large Woodland Animals And Banging Bricks Together.

Salt. Wound. Together At Last.

Sometimes Artist Like To Catch Themselves Looking Out, Let The World See Them For Once. It's A Signature. This One Is A Very Bold One. But This Is Also A Witnessing. We Want To Remember, And We Want To Be Remembered. That's Why We Paint.