Untitled
- by espcomix - 4/12/2007 - 11:52:59 pm 
v1- by espcomix - 4/12/2007 11:52:59 pm
espcomix4/12/2007 11:54:07 pm
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.
(george orwells 1984)
(george orwells 1984)
poopmustache4/13/2007 12:24:35 am
nice one.
Teh Newbstress4/13/2007 2:35:49 am
I'm reading that book right now. :]
Gerold Blankface4/13/2007 7:11:47 am
nicely done!
seeker4/13/2007 8:13:15 am
should read it..sounds great