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...and tomorrow is another story to tell...





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I
live
in
fiction.
I
refuse
to
become
the
slave
of
the
tides.
I
love
full
moons.
I
have
a
passion
for
romance,
drama
and
comedy.
I
dwell
in
adventures
that
might
have
existed
in
another
time.
   

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Sunday, September 05, 2004
Page 4

   Another incident almost similar to that occured not long ago while I was cleaning the backyard the other day. I let the dogs loose in the yard for a while. Suddenly, I heard the television upstairs switching channels. I also heard footsteps by the master's bedroom. Having to stay in this mansion for so long, I developed a very keen sense of hearing. I checked the garage to see if somebody went home a little early. No one. So I stopped what I'm doing and went upstairs. I slowly crept the stairs just in case the witch decided to surprise me again. I checked the shoe rack so I can tell who's home. No one. Strange.
   I held on to the door knob and slowly turned it. The master's bedroom is like a personal apartment complete by itself. It has a personal frige on one corner, a little salas complete with four chairs and a center table. The floor is made of parquet and I have been waxing the same damed floor for so many times. The king size bed is full of white pillows. Having just changed the bed sheet, I straightened it a bit. Fixing the side table, I arranged the lamp and a few frames. The television wasn't on so I figured It was just my imagination. But when I got a little closer, I felt the static electricity from the screen still so active. I touched the head of the tv and its still warm. I smelled cigarette burning.
   I followed the reek into the walk-in closet where there are four dressers. Through another door, I made my way into the bathroom where there are scented candles all over the place. I looked behind the shower curtain, the tiles are pearly white. "Nothing here" I thought. Walking to the bath tub area, "there really is nothing in here! Where the hell is that freaking smell coming from?!".
   And just like that, I heard a horn blowing.
   I hurried downstairs again, faster than my breath can take. For a while I thought I saw something or someone is sitting in the receiving area. I stopped on my tracks to look back. I saw a black figure, like of a scarecrow. Long black trench coat and a pointed hat and a lighted cigar. Caught between stun and panick, I grabbed the keys and went out of the door.

Posted at 08:10 am by quill

 

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