Moves not excuses, impulses not the calculation of a hawk, sin watched prosperity begin to carelessly efface her mottoes of black from the wall. It didn't bode well with her, only because she was feeling devilish and rowdy. As a canine sunk into the side corner of her mouth she wondered, what if I wanted those words to stay there?
The wand of midnight reached up defiantly to the wall and curled a few swift and cursive o's with her proper hand though it pained her: ooooops spelled eventually the loops.