Each morning in my street, I cross this metal pony rider's...
Wearing his blue worker cloths...
Like a picture from the past...like my childhood memory coming back in my mind mixed with the smell from the gasoline and some cheap teen spirit...
10/26/2009
26/10/2009
Each morning in my street, I cross this metal pony rider's...
Wearing his blue worker cloths...
Like a picture from the past...like my childhood memory coming back in my mind mixed with the smell from the gasoline and some cheap teen spirit...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment