Taste: oil, sugar, and a white, puffed, insubstantial dough
Touch: when it does not quite reach
Smell: old overly perfumed soap
Sight: an unfinished office building with many floors but open to the air and inside crates of windows; the exposed waistband of his satin pants; women's hands on guitar and upright bass - the way they hold their fingers curled and flat respectively
Sound: "Hey Clarence, your home girl is drunk off her ass."; "Staring down the tunnel of pain at the punk with the bald head."
Extra: a Tudor-era gothic club with oboe, upright bass, and Taiko drums; the first theft; the first feeling of patriotism
Touch: when it does not quite reach
Smell: old overly perfumed soap
Sight: an unfinished office building with many floors but open to the air and inside crates of windows; the exposed waistband of his satin pants; women's hands on guitar and upright bass - the way they hold their fingers curled and flat respectively
Sound: "Hey Clarence, your home girl is drunk off her ass."; "Staring down the tunnel of pain at the punk with the bald head."
Extra: a Tudor-era gothic club with oboe, upright bass, and Taiko drums; the first theft; the first feeling of patriotism
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