... And you spent on the landing, just as you walked you saw me confused, almost tripping me. And I was emptying.
If I did ... if the fire was provoked to make the strategy of the pickpocket in love, I misled you and your tripping me ... I did it for love. But that did not sleep one night and it was your lover who ostigó my hose ... and nothing came ... and all burned ... from you, just the remains of a forgotten cigarette, my pride of extinguisher alienated him a filling and the echo of his last words: This extinguisher is empty!
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