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Punishment for our sins.

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Punishment for our sins The religious guy thought that it was God, punishing us for our sins, sort of "baptising" the world so they could start anew. The pessimist thought that it was going to happen eventually anyway. The optimist thought that everything would be ok and it had happened for the best. I hit the optimist. As the sun rose above the hills, the last objects standing in this international havoc, the watery grave of the population of London was revealed to the world. It had taken me seconds to build this raft, and I was glad I had done, otherwise I would now be resting with the rest of London, mottled. Bloated bodies lay down the street and a great horrifying calm came over me. Yes, it was over, but at the price of my family and friends. I reran our last moment together in my continuously in my head until I was mad with rage. The table was set, crystalline glasses at every place, with rose-coloured napkins and silver encrusted cutlery. Julie had been preparing this since last Christmas, sending invites and ordering beautiful dinner sets. ...read more.


My fingers brushed bandages, and I let out a sigh. I sat up and took in my surroundings. I was currently lying in an X ray booth that was completely shut off, apart from a small vent that allowed me to breath. I found the source of the smell almost instantly. What I saw then will never leave me. A man, obviously a doctor, had somehow managed 2 climb inside the booth next to me. Unfortunately, he was no longer alive. Jagged marks on his neck and the small penknife in his hand plainly showed how he had died, but I wondered why a man would go to the trouble of climbing inside here and committing suicide. Then I looked up, through the glass, shrouded round my inanimate body. The room was completely flooded and held in the water's unforgiving grip, were three people, three dead people with inflated skin and mortified gazes that pierced the soul. I understood why the man had ended his life; he had gone mad with waking to see his friends and workmates, cursing him in death that he still lived, bitter even in their fatality. ...read more.


"I will have no language like that in the house of God!" the saint yelled with feeling. "I'm dead?" I screeched. "No boy, you are in London in a church" said a third man. "How the hell did I survive that fall!" I shouted openly. "You landed on me you bug...I wasn't going to say it!" said the shadow man. I decided I should now get everyone's opinion on the disaster before I went into a lapse of schizophrenia and started asking myself. It ended with me hitting the third man squarely in the jaw. "Don't say it's for the best ever again ok!?" I bellowed with rage, "My wife is gone, how is that for the best, go on tell me with your cheery face and your `bright side', go on I dare you!" "Calm down, you can't change the past, the guilty have been taken, the innocent still live. If you truly believe that your wife was innocent, then maybe there is a possibility she is still alive" the saint said. He had said all he needed to say. I am still searching for my wife, endlessly I move from town to town, just in case there is the smallest possibility someone, somewhere would know where she is. ...read more.

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