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Wishmaster Chapter 5Chapter 5- Her Truth and My Wish
This world was so static and unchanging. The lack of action here was suffocating. How could Lily stand to live here? Her life meant nothing. She had no purpose. She meant nothing to anyone. What would happen if she were to remember another world, a life she once lived? I bet she would feel a spark of loneliness. I could understand why I would think of such a thing. It seemed too cruel to remind people of what they wished to forget.
Today was different than the days before it. Everything that I became used to in this world had changed. This time I meet Lily. I would be able to touch her, to talk to her. I was puzzled by the outcome of this encounter. There was a truth behind Lily that I wish I had never known. I wish she could forget again.
The mailbox appeared next to me again. I opened it to check the letters. Most of them were still unreadable. There was only one that I could understand. There was no date or greeting written on the top of t
Anti-YouThe stuffy cell was lighted by a dim bulb in the middle of the ceiling. The prisoner's eyes were wide open, hardly blinking. Leather safety straps pinned him to the bed. A needle pumped nutrients into his veins while he sat there, unable to harm anyone on the ship. A woman holding a rather large gun stood outside of the cell protected by red laser bars.
The captain named so by the survivors on the ship strode through the halls of the futuristic dungeons. A common sight of blood, old and new, painted the metal corridors. The captain's boots clicked loudly as he stomped through the halls. Within a few steps, he had reached his destination. He gave a glance to the female guard. She nodded and unlocked the cell. He stepped inside and began to unfasten the safety straps on the prisoner's bed. This would be a dangerous task if it weren't for the circumstances of the situation. The prisoner sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. His eyes were bleary and the first thing he saw was the captain.
Parenting for Sex AddictsThe half-day.
We are not those folks that need an occasion to try. And that’s what they call it, too. Trying. As if the very idea of it is taxing. It’s not taxing and we are not those people.
No. We do not go by some magical calendar. Schedules aren’t really our thing in general. That’d be too organized. Too stuffy. Too… I don’t know… too planned. And we’re not the type of people whom plan.
If we could—plan—our lives would be much different. I think. It’s hard to say because this is how we’ve always been.
Our very togetherness is a result of impulse. I’m almost certain that the amount of time it took us to decide to move in together was significantly shorter than the amount of time it took us to remember each other’s names. We might have had our first conversation moments after that first… what I mean to say is we didn’t plan. Because planning would have been much t
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