A big man walked through the door tummy bulging and shirt almost about to rip open. A curled mustache clung to the under nose and below. Because of his size he struggled to fit through the door but I knew That he would not give or else throw a fit and give suicide rather than not enjoy a minute in the luxury. I could tell because his face with beaded with sweat, frustration and hope. As soon as he enters the door the butler chicken skinny compared to the man walks in with 8 bottles of whisky, 8 bottles of rum and 8 bottles of beer surely enough to make a small amount of men like this drunk. But as I watch in horror as they gulp down the elegant drinks like mad men on a roll bloodthirsty and cold blooded. As soon as the butler left the room a small servant who had only just started on the job came in with the same amount of whisky, rum and beer as before. On the table was a marvelous stack of money that could turn a rich man into an even richer man. I wanted to gamble but i couldn’t because of two reasons. My wife wasn’t the biggest fan of gambling and I myself wasn’t much for the game of gambling. I strided down the alley like stairs and confidently walked into the guest room to be hit by a bullet of beautiful. It felt like the sight of a just bloomed flower or the harmony choir of the birds in spring. The grand master piano brought such elegance to the room and seemed to entrance everyone who was willing enough to listen. I still have dreams about the day the gates opened. As long as I live I will always remember.
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AuthorHi my name is Ben And I love my writing. So sit back with a cuppa and read away Archives
August 2015
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