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Original Writing The beam of the headlights shone through the open window of the front room, as the family car pulled onto the drive. It must have just pasted six o'clock as John walked into the house, greeting his wife with two sharp kisses, one on both cheeks. Pushing on the heels of his boots, to loosen the grips around his ankles, he releases a sigh of relief and inquires how much time is needed for his wife finish the preparation of his gourmet meal, before he can take it upon himself to destroy and kill what lay's in front of him, through a process of gluttony. To his disbelief it will take another 15 minutes till he can surpress the empty feeling that lies whaling in his bile at the bottom of his stomach. Placing his coat on the peg, he strolls through to the living room area. As soon as he enters he is overwhelmed by the heat thrown out by the fire, the difference of temperature in the hall to the living room area being as much as jumping out of the desert to an abundant Antarctic. He collapses down on to his red armchair, which cushions and mould have deflated and misshaped to adapt to his figure over time. As Sam lay across the floor, taking in heat from the red and yellow blaze to the side of him, he tried once again to tackle his English coursework. Due to his difficulty with words, John started to make himself and his son feel better, proclaiming that there is no need to be doing this work and how unnecessary it was. "There is 'nor' need for all this school; maths, English and science! It's never helped anyone and never will, look at me I don't have any of these fancy grades and I've done just fine. A strong lad like you should be out in the workplace, doing all types manual labour." ...read more.


Or did he? Not with all the luxury off a bed, a quilt or a house, Sammy was a homeless man, who liked to lay his head down on the park bench in the middle of the street. All to his name, a jacket, a pair of ragged boots and a cardboard box, the only shelter he has, and ever has had. Although this was not the best life there ever will be, this bench and the cardboard box was a god send, a saviour to him. Every night he lay up against the back, tumbling and turning till he could find a comfortable spot, which he may lay there for the entire night, a concept all too familiar to Sammy. Every night he sat, looking up at the stars asking himself, how he ended up on the street, how people have been so lucky to have a warm place to live, and what he has done to deserve all he has been made to suffer. Was it that he had hurt somebody, was it that they were better than him, or was it just that he was unlucky, that no matter what he had done, or will everything he does be cursed. "How do I get to this state?" he wondered. He asked for a sign that may help him see thing more clearly or something that could help him get from the streets and into a warm place of living. He has been asking for the past 33 years and still no reply. Then it came to him in a flash, "I know how to end my misery, I know how to solve this mystery" then he got up leaving his cardboard box, jacket and bench, which never before he dared to do, and ran off into the distance. Where was he going? Across the street, in the darkness, there had been a new superstar addition to the line up. ...read more.


"Get me my tailored suit ready in my quarters and Ferrari warming up at the door in two minutes, no longer. I want to go." As the maid stood hesitant he screamed, "Now!". He had spent no longer than two minutes inside the house before he had become bored. It wasn't that he had friends or family to talk to, keeping him company. He had already pushed them aside, and was too stubborn to ask them back into his life. Because of all his money and royalties, he expected them to come grovelling. But he was to shallow to see that life doesn't just rotate around money, it doesn't rotate around him So out of the pool he leapt, walked to his dresser where his suit had already been, washed, pressed and ironed. Taking twenty minute to get changed this was ten times longer than the time it took him to get bored of his new house. He strolled out to the front of his house, where expecting to find his Ferrari he was amazed that his staff had not followed his orders to exact specification. What more amazed him was that they had over twenty minutes to get this job done. "Where is my car, I don't see it" in a sarcastic and belittling way. "I'm sorry to report sir but, it seems your car has been stolen, but if it is any consolation, all of your staff are resigning as from now." All of his staff stood around the little guy, who had lot of courage to say this to such an intimidating character. "How is that a consolation" he replied, bewildered. "I said if". As all nine members of his staff walked away he furiously, bounced up and down, running around in the exact same place, like a chicken with no head. He order them, "get back here now, where is my car?" ?? ?? ?? ?? ...read more.

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