It's all about the dough.
You're daily bread.
Rise.
Dear flour.
Lend me your ear.
And earn your crust.
Or return to dust.
Uggly Fences
17 hours ago
"The world... ravaged... the sun beat down on the carbon stricken rock. Civilisation... a distant memory. Human-robot sex... the norm. Each day, every day, survival and ... how? this-thus."
A not too distant, distant too hot near-future.
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