|From:||Strong P. Strophe|
|Date:||Tue, 15 Aug 2006 02:49:44 -0700|
visit the site
Did you dream up the torn piece of uniform left in the guards hand in the prison? That was a good touch. I had to step back quickly as the forklifts and M-trucks appeared out of the doors behind me. In a way it made my act easier, I just played to an unseen audience. I will not commit suicide voluntarily, I said harshly to break the spell of agreement. No promisesbut the psych boys might be able to do something with her. It was a four-hour drive and we made plans on the way down. The guard was dead too, from a tiny puncture of the same poison-tipped blade. I am a thinker during moments of peace, but a man of action most of the time.
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