Tweets VIII


Sulum Bey had to pay for his tricky game with MI6. His daughter, Flower Asi met her fate under the bullets of Sao Paulo’s hidden red master.

Prof. Mortimer welcomes the master assassin with a caipirinha. He is old-fashioned. Spies snoop around Spectrum Bar in search of good deals.

Euston has an appointment at the Spectrum Bar with a respectable, bearded Englishman. Oh Boy! Such troubles nowadays since O Norte blew out.

Now I see the world in black & w, high res, through a broad range of Mini Leica lenses and sensors grafted on my eyes. Black market miracle.

Euston do Nacimento is an assassin who tries to earn respect and good pay to feed his family in the Certao. Life in Sao Paulo gets brighter.

Good evening Sir. What may I serve you? The cosy mood of the Spectrum Bar on Sao Paulo reminded me of Captain Blake lost in the mist of WW3.

Flower Asi danced on the rooftop of the abandoned five-star hotel. People came from the shore. Candle lighted night of the Virgin. You pray.

The crowd of Brazilians jumped out of the bus, engulfing Ciudad del Este covered under a thick layer of red dust. Frenzy shopping on-the-go.

Sulum Bey, father of the beautiful Flower Asi of Our Lady of Soho, jumped into the latest internet bubble, made a killing of Groupon shares.

Josie had found a mother substitute, stretching her small arms around the robust waist, begging for kindness. Mother squeaked on her motors.

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