Chapter 1
Hello, my dears it is I the writer speaking to tell you all what these little stories are going to seem like. I am thinking of putting these stories down. But thought of something else instead of putting the rest of mankind to do some work.
Punishment deserves all this. Revenge is there inside me and I am going to have it at the cost of those who made me the way I am.
I am chaffed.
A storm of stories told by the author because she has gone daft and has nothing else to do. How to do it right romance and be happier than William but who is William no one wants to know.
No one asks for it.
I am giving them away and there it is. I locked out.
Give me the keys.
The key is grammar.
Punctuation and punchlines.
So there.
No, it is not that it is about each story themselves.
We know what sells.
Another thing, that may be a mafia or the beginning of the mafia connection. These stories go back nearly a hundred and fifty years. Now that is a time factor you all did not work out? No okay. I appeal to all the readers to share their thoughts is that confusing?
Too wide to ask around and we find that confusion because we dislike that sort of thing.
Foolish.
Obscurity in an obscure author is not our thing.
"Tiresome person."
"I am sorry."
"What does a writer in the making do?"
"Lick them all."
Stuff and nonsense, we think you are bonkers and make our lives a misery.
"Who has set up this design?"
"I am thinking of retiring."
Then we can sleep."
The coin is the sex and the money comes after. Money bring me money and sex and I will make you a superstar.
The mates were there to sympathize.
The women were left huddled in something like laughter. They laughed so much that they got the shakes.
"We want to know what you do?"
"Housebound."
Madness is where the sun does not shine.
Nowadays we are so shocked that the sexual revolution left us barren and not so inclined to repeat. We dislike this sudden growth.
"Not to our taste and not our making."
The reality came. You don't make money.
"Now if I was writing this I would make a lot of the dosh."
"Cash and carry it."
Come it is never going to work.
One person doing all the work?
I am sorry the editor is coming to the fore.
What could be done and will not be done? This, as a woman who saw what rampant sexual incontinence did to the world. The world is not a line to cross there are barriers to please to behave.
We are all self-effacing.
Show respect and responsibility.
When we deny ourselves the flesh. To further the education of the masses with literary output. It is like salt mines we do the deeds that would create a world of pure fantasy.
"My fantasy."
"Class barriers prevent us from taking you seriously."
I have broken barriers and come to make the mark. I am so remarkable. That is what I said to the man with two women on a boat. He said to me to sod off I reminded him of his wife.
I nearly wept. Then twinkled.
Asked for tea at a party and then drove every steward mad.
We are sharing this experience of what it is to be mean and grand.
I as an older woman now know that having this on one's conscience is nothing but a burden.
"Peddle your wares elsewhere."
I am this woman who denied myself the wit and the education of other people because they thought me prim and proper.
I did not think marrying for money was a great idea.
"If you cannot marry Daddy then we do not want to know you."
"If you do not become a threesome in our relationship then I am going to fire you."
"Perverts." I would try to say and before I could say it they let me go.
"Out."
"We live in our adult world we walk in our underwear."
I was surprised and dismayed by this. Then I reasoned I must keep an eye on forgetting all the important people. This was confirmed by circumstances. I grew stubborn. My thoughts narrowed.
I flipped.
Just like the rest of my family. I would join them in the mad house said my Daddy and he would be rid of me.
I did not treat the world fairly because the world did not treat me fair as well.
I went dull.
So having made them all curious as everyone said I left never to return. Because I vowed that that was not the place for the likes of me who always told the truth because the truth did not harbor gratitude or did not even exist.
I felt diminished. Then the thing was I got diminished responsibility. Because it is madness to run from these famous inclinations is it not? Should we all give in? Is there nothing we can do?
"How could you not reward the successful?"
How many girls have had this experience and did it make them mad too?
I am trying to handle all the connections in the stories and make them appeal to everyone.
These are social stories that share the points and viewpoints of killers and people who are inadequately trained. I have spurned the violence and maddened them by asking for the pen to do the work for me. This is mightier than the sword they told me so.
I was brought up to become a massive embarrassment. I am indeed that I do not belong in any group.
Here is the link to all the other stories and the link is unkind. Raving lunatics have experiences too.
You see it is something readers must be aware of. This is a government health warning it comes as a kindly reminder that murderers are dangerous and their victims can become so too.
So let us level this out leave me out if you have the mad urge to go mad. My foster parents whom I ran to because someone were running towards me trying to kill me. Taught me that they wanted me to kill their adversaries so that they could live happier lives.
When I took to the pen they thought I had gone insane truly and settled their scores with the world.
So I set myself up to show them up and the world as the world is. It is a sudden illumination that no one wants.
I am no longer asking for justice or the means to get that there is nothing like that in life. There is almost this gluttony inside me asking for nourishing experiences so that I can co-author them with the expert insane world.
