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Wednesday, February 13, 2019

Overpopulation :: essays research papers

Its a dark, cold, rainy darkness. The wind chill can be compared to that of condom wastelands, tho the rain wont freeze and disappear upon data link to your skin, instead the freezing cold ice-rain pierces your flesh like a virtuoso thousand thousand needles. The cold doesnt subdue. A dark, small, shadowy target can be seen scurrying across the unlit channels. This dreary atmosphere does Hells Kitchen in the New York ghetto no justice. Just the sight of steam advance from sewer grills, the sound of gunshots in the distance, and the smell of rotten fish makes this an unsavory environment to be exposed to. The shadowy object seems to be on a mission. Looking plump for and forth as though world hunted by a beast of great stature, the shadowy object makes its way through alleyways, dank streets, and eerie overpasses. Shivering with each measurement it takes, the shadowy figure looks worn and used out from a night of wear and tear, and appears to be running out of gas. The spe ctacle of shadow finds a vacant, foresighted deserted, decrepit wooden box, and immediately finds it as a place of seclusion.So tired, how can I get home? I wish those gangstas neer stole my bike Thought inadequate Billy to himself, Maybe tubercular just sleep here for the night.Just then, at that very upshot in time, A dark looking man, wearing a minatory trench coat and boots, comes dashing down that back alley, running as fast as he could until he reached that wooden box, he of a sudden came to a perfect stop about ten feet from Little Billy. Almost, as though paralyzed by fear, Little Billy just stares at the bizarre man with a petrified gaze. In return, the man simply stares back at the Belittled Billy, and hesitates before he speak, which seems like an eternity to one Little Billy. Hiya, said the man, in a friendly tone of voice. Little Billy opened his mouth as though to speak, but only to get interrupted by a prudent mystery man. Lemme antedate myself, Im Jim Sinepso n, and Im a fellow street bum. What brings a nice little boy to these mean streets where homicide and illegal practise is prevalent? Again, Little Billy began to open his mouth, hesitating and stuttering through pure intimidation. Well, I see that youve moved into this box here? Well, Im not sure if this is the best box to spend your night in Yeah, my friend Bob was picked off here last week

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