Thoughts!Non-ThoughtsThoughts
| The Man with the Scythe[1999-02-04]He came walking late an afternoon. A man dressed in nothing but a black hood. His feet could not be seen underneath the cloth. His face was dead pale. His hands equally so. One of his hands, the left one, held on tight to a scythe; long, sharp, deadly.
He raised his right hand towards her, and waved at her with his
index-finger.
She trembled a little, but followed him through the door and stepped
into the white limousine parked in the street outside her villa. Then
suddenly a thought struck her.
Silence followed. Finally, the man said with a calm voice. |
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