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never ending.Ich war mir zu diesem Zeitpunkt nicht sicher, ob ich ihn je wieder sehen würde. Er war verschwunden, für mich unerreichbar. Für immer? Keine Ahnung. Ich hoffte es jedenfalls nicht, denn sonst hätte ich wieder einmal einen Menschen verloren, der mir möglicherweise etwas bedeutet hätte. Nach meiner Mutter und meiner kleinen Schwester. Nach meiner Tante.
Aber was ihn betraf da sah die Sache doch etwas anders aus. Ich konnte nicht behaupten, dass er mir wirklich etwas bedeutete. Jedenfalls müsste das eigentlich so sein. Aber dennoch vermisste ich ihn. Oder war es einfach nur der Klang seiner sanften Stimme, der meinen Ohren fehlte? Wie auch immer. Er war jedenfalls weg. Verschwunden. Und ich war mir nicht sicher, ob er je wieder zurückkommen würde. Gerne hätte ich nach ihm gesucht. Aber wo? Ich wusste ja nicht, wohin er gegangen war. Wenn ich es wüsste, dann hätte ich vielleicht nach ihm gesucht. Aber verdammt ich wus
i like to tell you a story . . .
"Did you ever kill somebody?"
Two little kids were starring at their grandfather, who suddenly asked this strange question. The twins shook their heads at the same time and said simultaneously: "No, granny, never!"
"Yeah, that's right, isn't it? You'd never kill somebody, because you are good kids. Aren't you?" The old man had a little bit of a strange smile in his face, but that's like his grandchildren knew him. A little bit strange, but always loved.
"Yes, granny!" Again the little kids, both six years old, said that at the same time. Then they looked at each other, smirking. The old man laughed, they children turned their heads and looked at their grandfather again.
"I believe you, my little doves. But I like to tell you a story. It's not a tale; it's a true story about a young man not as young as you, but also an innocent little boy. Just a little strange, almost always laughing, he never seemed sad. But that's just like he grown up. As he became older, he and his life
Red Letter Day - Prologue
So here I am, writing.
I’m writing, I’m writing – just as you told me to.
I’m writing, I’m writing, I’m writing.
Have you ever noticed that when the sun goes down, this flat changes? It does. The walls are white during the day and lingering brown at night. During the day, I’m with you and the light from outside paints the walls that heavenly color. But when that sun goes down, the demons wake and I’m alone again, even though you’re just a room away.
Somehow it seems less threatening tonight, and I think it’s because you’ve given me an assignment to try and fight off the darkness. You gave me a stack of papers and a pen and told me to write everything that comes to mind.
It’s a strange feeling to have complete freedom. These empty pages are mine to do whatever I please – I could even wipe my ass with them – but they’re also terribly intimidating. The blank page has always been a nemesis of man. It&
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More