On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. It was not human and yet very human, a high pitched wail of hunger that rattled her skull.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTI4LjIwNS4yMSAtIDI3LTA5LTIwMjQgMDA6NDQ6MDMgLSA0NDMwMDYyMDA=
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 16:04:15