By Cheryl Willis Hudson
The Afro-Bets ABC booklet uniquely provides letters A via Z for teenagers to find with the fun-filled, alluring Afro-Bets teenagers. The impossible to resist, colourful characters shape their letters in whimsical, motivating illustrations. each one creatively formed quantity is strengthened through phrases and images.
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Shit. You should not die in July. Is that really church bells I can hear, or were there hallucinogens in the bloody bullets? OK, so it stops here. And what sodding difference does it make? Here or there. Now or later. But did I really deserve to die in July? With the birds singing, bottles clinking, laughter from down by the Akerselva and fricking summer merriment right outside your window? Did I deserve to be lying on the floor of an infected junkie pit with an extra orifice in my body, from which it all runs out: life, seconds and flashbacks of everything that led me here?
USA. Women wearing decent clothes. Decent drinks in decent glasses. Decent cigarettes without menthol and filters. The days when what didn’t kill you made you stronger. He had bought only the first season. Watched it again and again. He wasn’t sure he would like the next series. Tord Schultz looked at the white line on the glass coffee table and dried the edge of his ID card. He had used his card to chop it up, as usual. The card that he attached to the pocket of his captain’s uniform, the card that gave him access to airside, the cockpit, the sky, the salary.
Have you come back here? Or is it me who has already gone there? * * * Tord Schultz placed his Samsonite bag on the conveyor belt winding its way into the X-ray machine beside the smiling security official. ‘I don’t understand why you let them give you such a schedule,’ the flight attendant said. ’ ‘I asked them to,’ Tord said, passing through the metal detector. Someone in the trade union had proposed that the crews should go on strike against having to be exposed to radiation several times a day.
Afro-Bets ABC Book by Cheryl Willis Hudson