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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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Wednesday, September 08, 2004
Page 7

   A little shaken from my dream. The day is unusually flowing in a stop and go time frame. I'd get stuck and be absorbed in my thoughts.
   "What is the matter with you?" my sister Mary asked.
   "H-huh? Oh nothing. I had a dream last night. Nevermind." I replied while I water the plants.
   But she followed me around pestering me about my dream. My sister is very intrigued by things happening to me since I told her about the scarecrow man incident.
   "I wasn't dreaming when I saw the dark shadow last night. I told you, I woke up all sweaty and I smelled cigar. I am most certain that it was him." I said.
   "Oooh.. this guy maybe visiting you often 'cos he knows you can see him! Or he has something to tell you.. an important message! Try talking to him!" she exclaimed.
   "Or, it is really is his routine to visit rooms every night checking on everybody to see if they are already asleep and tries to take over the bodies and control them" I spooked her by making a weird facial expression while talking.
   She just laughed her heart out and told me I'm so weird and went back inside the house with me.
   Meanwhile, Sylvia is in the cannopy. Wearing her usual "Madamme" dress. Her chin is up looking like the queen of hearts "off with her head!!!". I chuckled with the thought.
   Its a lazy day for everybody. Most of the boys have been watching tv while I dust the furnitures upstairs. I got tired of complaining since all of the servants have been sent away by the witch. My father got the impression that I actually like doing this. He just passed by behind me moments ago and gave me a tap on the shoulder. I sneered, he just smiled.
   The hallway upstairs is of parquet floor. The walls are decorated by Indian art paintings. Mostly of colorful deities. There is a chair made of hard wood with flower carvings of some kind with cushions of ethnic motif.
   Holding a little figure of buddha on one hand, I carefully placed it down after dusting the little guy. In the corner of my eye, I saw a dark figure pass on my right side. I quickly turned to see who it was.
   No one.

Posted at 06:44 am by quill

 

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