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It is the marks we leave behind which gives us permanence when the marks are frights we leave that. I the ghostly writer have these frighten moments. A ghost hand has withered the beasts and made off with the offences which is social beasts we now no longer dare to feel anything and when we do dare it is over for us. I make the marks the chains walking and rattling and in a state of bliss tell the stormy nights what to do with themselves. These are the frights which we must all tell around the bed place while we share out our delights to the world. We matter because we learn from the past the animals too but they do not seek outside resources which we do. It is as if the doomed selves come and take over from the selfish thoughts which is the storms in the night.

Horror / Humor
5.0 1 review
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

“Like two performing rhinos they came upon the scene having it out and then mated and became in my mind handbags.”

“But sorry for butting in why?”

“Because they went too far and they did it like monkeys several at a time and due to me being mere observer they appeared obscene.” We were in the usual room trying to figure out what mattered what needed sorting and when there was nothing but words nothing but words the failures compounded. There did not appear to be a way out there did not seem anything anyone could do to sort out the sorry mess we had to continue as we were because that was what it is. Until one moment one moment when I could crash out but that would mean I would be placed in some hospital.

So, I had to sit put and stranded emotionally as well as financially it meant me having to seek help and hand outs and all that mattered was that I had to be strong enough to take my medicine and be able to speak.

People said to me how brave you are and wonderful I had not begun to suss out what they meant. What they meant was we are helping him and her take what is yours and smiling into your eyes while we do it.

“How brave you all are.” I thought when I can blow this system apart if I learn to write.”

But the thing was they did not think they were being observed as concerned to the end they swept me along in their open-minded contempt. My solitude seems to upset them the most because if I got someone they would be in the clear. They offered no resistance to my partaking of their triumphs and they left me plenty of room to fail. How dared I cross the line between what was the right blue and me the wrong red. I was nothing but unimportant just a girl and that mattered nothing to these people because they had their blood truth be told true blue blood.

So, they discouraged him and encouraged the perfect union because as I said they were like rhinos on heat.

I had been reading that play about rhinos and then thought the rhinos might escape and there might be a stamped or something this occasionally alarmed me so much I had to go and read another play. It seemed that he and me had lost the common ground? We had nothing we had no bodies left my function was to list his sleeps. He came to sleep because he so shattered. I fled emotionally because of course life does not stop because the male has left the scene it continues marks one seems to be forever moving onwards to something called disaster. He begun to dislike the way I looked did not seem to think I looked pleasing did not treat me with anything as if he a brother or an old friend which he indeed had become. We drifted. Like in that room before the wife who now as the doctor wanted my material to rob to pillage in order to work out some sort of story because she did matter in the world and had so many commitments and of course she disliked to spend money on material why bother when one can have it for free? Because her and her husband inside the material and technically it belonged to them.

It is a high-handed robbery?

“Oh, but she does not see it like that.” And then I added, “You see they had to eat their cake and I had to watch being diabetic you see.”

This was the second reasoning this was the one who had the reasonableness I left the scene as a tax payer and was paying somehow in something more than money.

In our house the payments are always done in blood and it has become so in Britain to the poor pay in blood.

“No, they don’t they work?”

“What happens when the work is done and one does not have any more energy?”

“What did it do to you seeing your best friend and her man shacking up?”

“My man you mean?”

“But no longer yours.” She pressed the panic button my raising my voice meant she in extreme peril.

Having released the panic button, we continued as comfortably as possible.

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