Continued

Communication Department

Communication Department Leaves are lying on their backs, lacking the spirit of competition. They live in unavoidablefriendship, they are friends in rot. The international day of the smell of leaves. Memory in the air and lots of Powqzkis, even across the ocean. Postmen silently deliver postcards connecting two closed circuits. On such a day the high and the low exchange juices and thoughts. My mother would like to know the opinion of the maple nearby on the question of the dissolubility of plastic, decomposition of dentures and how well grounded is democracy anyway? She doesn't have to get the reply instantly, she can get the reply later. The bottom line is that the transmission goes on. Transfusion? Transit. Bah, perhaps all love is born because of this trance without end. You see it now? You're grounded. But don't worry, you too are its multicolored conduit! 87 ...