Nothing But Dust Shirt
Nothing But Dust Shirt, Hoodie, And Sweater
The Nothing But Dust Shirt! Crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knees, Cal McNair sat up straight, stooped, and proudly at the back of the room. Halfway in the dark, he was immersed in the reflected light of the podium before him. Fluorescent lights fill the room with a pale light. Jacob Martin and Benardrick McKinney bicker with whispering applause and say which of them will be Wolverine in this week's outfit. Charles Omenihu interrupted them, bravely correcting them, announcing that neither of them was needed, in a joking joke and Nothing But Dust Shirt!
Whitney Mercilus sat behind me, adorned in woolen pajamas, her eyes sleepy. He muttered to himself inaudibly. Drool dripped down his chin and Nothing But Dust Shirt! His eyes are meeting. He leaned back and sat in the chair. Phillip Gaines sat beside him, ignorant of Whitney's plight. He was talking on the phone to the post office, pleading for the expected arrival time, horrified that he might miss delivering something he would die without. He put his face in his hand as he cried because he was regretful. "I failed. I'm so sorry." He cried. Prediction emerged with a painful fear.
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