This story was constructed to use a lot of vocabularies I found in my book. It’s one of my method to learn and memorize them.
When I observed a poofer snatch another poofer, I felt the obligation to find a way to help one of them. Actually, no skin off my butt. So, I rolled up my slacks and threw my loafers in the direction of the poofers. I was glad they didn’t notice it—they didn’t bat an eye. Otherwise, I would have caught a beating, and I had a lot to wrap my head around today to avoid such situations again.
In any case, I might have to enter the street in the future gun-toting, but I’m not a tinkerer who can build such a weapons arsenal. I only have a set of pliers and screwdrivers in my ownership, and that’s not sufficient for building such equipment. But I think the same is true for my mind—it is not sufficient to make a plan to build such weaponry. I wouldn’t get by with it.
Other people would run at such stuff head-on, leaving a skid mark behind them, and that would surprise all their betters—that he was able to make something of that. But sloth and avarice prevent me from inventing such things, and I was doing everything to keep that off the top of my head. Such drudgery is nothing for me, and I cannot pinpoint all the things I have to do to become successful. Then I woke up, and all that weird stuff started to vanish.
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