Transport: Automatic Prose

What are we foiling? The right heritage balances. A swing -- 
cannot a cut heave the dominion strip? Commonly awarding 
brass is this medicine-changed vortex with the whip whose 
breath plays. The cell below his domestic change inevitably 
grieved behind the award disk, and fright around entering 
was aim. While they don't race changes, has the suspended 
land whose heat rusts exercised? Who have aging flights as 
fine as his sum expanded? The fool smiles. We longed to stare.
The gentle existence -- when has each of you continued?
After they are triple questions whose errors rise, a judge's 
bell into this era song without the piece of annihilation 
whose bondage balances is circulating about the warm plate.