Practice Typing
Notes from the Underground - Dostoyevsky, Fyodor ยท 62 words
What possessed me, what possessed me to force myself upon them. I wondered, grinding my teeth as I strode along the street, for a scoundrel, a pig like that Zverkov. Of course I had better not go; of course, I must just snap my fingers at them. I am not bound in any way. Ill send Simonov a note by tomorrows post....
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