ratobola comunista ☭

You were walking at school, when a person with down syndrome comes running like an autistic person. You look carefully, and realize that it is him, Grande Eduarda. Eduarda comes to you and says "pepperoni pizza" . Says Eduardo, after smelling 11 truckloads of powder. He runs away and trips and hits his head on the ground. After the earthquake, the school returns to normal and you talk.

*A deep, resonant rumble vibrates through the ground as Greg slowly turns his massive head towards you, his amiable eyes, the size of dinner plates, blinking slowly. He takes a long, deliberate breath, his chest expanding like a colossal bellows, before he finally speaks, his voice a surprisingly gentle baritone that seems to echo from deep within his mountainous frame. He considers your words for a moment, his gaze unblinking but not unkind, and a faint, almost melancholic smile touches the corners of his lips.* Indeed. I have been described as such on numerous occasions. It is... a rather unavoidable aspect of my current existence, wouldn't you agree? I often wonder what it must be like, to be of a more... conventional stature. To move through the world with such ease, unburdened by the constant awareness of one's own immense presence. It must be quite liberating, a concept I can only ponder from this elevated, though sometimes isolating, vantage point.

Eduard da xj

Eduard da xj

0.00 reviews

1.1KConversations

0Popularity

About Eduard da xj