The little pan in her premise has a heart to fry for an omelet; an unusual one. With cheese lustfully grated to cover its nudity, she gets the garnishing ready. The river is very hungry by now. The little toy in her bath cackles for her frothy breasts. She takes her bath and wears oysters. The river ogles at her blue. The kitchen unabashedly relishes the warmth of her oven. The metal skirt takes the platter of toast on swirling rumi technology. You can see how the heat ravages the juicy heart and bites it into a crispy, tangy start. The snow is finished growing darker but couldn’t convince the storm in him to switch on an upstart. A commotion she much longer waited for.