Day 107: Whatever Already

A horribly chiming sound sprung to demented life and pierced my ear like a fish in water, but what was it to be? I could not know and I did thin it would just leave me alone, but no. The filthified box in the sky upon Virgil's curved arc sounded out another mouldy melody of doom. In the trauma I was confused and so dizzy running in circled squares, I made a dash for the door. And as I opened that unholy door, I was greeted by the most unsaintly people I have never had the privileged to meet. They too did not believe I was old and wrinkled enough to wave tongues in speech and then had the NERVE to place upon my fingertips, filthy god books, in=my-hand! GAWD BOOKS! Can you believe the uproar? I squealed. I screeched I flung those pages at the freaks and wiggled my fingers in disgrace. Off they ran, but there on top the door mat, laying so peacefully, Welcome hidden beneath their demonic textures; the god books lay on the door mat, blocking my path. How to get to the letter box now, hmmm?

Evil Rests Atop The Ledge.