A Bulwer-Lytton Prize Entry


Bulwer Lytton Prize 28 July 2011 0 Comments

The previously discarded coffee he drank through his disgustingly unkempt moustache on the filthy mattress under the railway bridge was not Lavazza, but some inferior brand which, in between his tormented visions of vomiting clowns, he fancied could do with a spoonful of splenda and possibly a shot of his beloved Tia Maria.

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