Could I Have Stopped?

I like peaches.

It's true, I have always _walked through the mountain to reach the Plains of Summer_. Since they're so sweet, especially when they're _shattered in a thousand pieces, each reflecting a part of her astonished face_. Really, I can eat a whole can of halves in heavy _artillery fire held us pinned down behind the remains of a building_.

Once I ate so many that I _screamed into the darkness the mad syllables of the dead god's name_. But that was a long time ago when _winter came upon us with a soft blanket of snow and a layer of thick ice on the lake_. And now I just eat them whenever _the comet streaked across the sky, heralding the birth of the new Thousand Year King_.

It's quite possible that they are the perfect _time ceased to have meaning, for the singularity collapsed and tore a hole in the universe the size of forever_ wanting to feast upon _the remains of the kingdom grew into_ ripe fruit _withered in the sun_ shine and be happy.

Man, peaches are _held aloft by hope and magic_.