From the platforms at Wapping or Rotherhithe you can see the tunnel fleetingly illuminated as the trains approach; it looks so incredibly Victorian that you expect to see Jack the Ripper loitering between the arches.
He turned his head so only Shaun and Marly could see his face and mouthed the word Paki. 'Shit,' Shaun said loudly. 'A fuckin' curry-muncher.'
The breeze in this case was the infamous north-Chicago williwaw that sometimes blows outward and bleacherward at Wrigley Field.
My wife suffers from myrmecophobia. I've spread enough toxic substances to turn our property into a superfund site.
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