Spell Fuchsia

I remember the day they stopped Niagara Falls. Something radical happened. The grandchildren, children, siblings and great grandchildren of farm workers and factory workers tossed their styrofoam coffee cup liquid known as coffee from their passenger windows the moment they passed where the toll used to be. You know what I’m talking about. That place where they used to collect money for no reason. An education toll. I’m sorry. I meant – a transportation toll. You can’t get there from here without paying in blood. Well, coffee was our blood. So, we drained our blood into the Niagara River. They wouldn’t give us days off or time to sleep. Yet, they insisted we drop the #MostPositiveHashtagOutThere to prove how good of a time we were having. I told you before – You can’t drink oil or surf honey and you sure as hell can’t fall on coffee if you’re awake. Are you awake or are you dreaming? Will that mixture of coffee and blood and milk and sugar and being in a hurry fall at the same rate? Tell me what the water looks like where the rapids commence. Will you explain to your children what happened to all that fresh water falling? Will you leave it to to nature to explain. Speak now or forever hold your Peace. Save your buckets.

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