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Literature Text
Did I ever tell you about the footprints?I hope you don't think me ill for forgetting. Thanks to our letters, I've noticed excitement has the ability to tamper with my memory. I can't remember what I wrote in my haste. That is why I am taking great pains in writing this letter as slowly as I can.
Now, about those footprints. Since I can't remember writing to you about them before, I'll tell you again. They are like nothing we've ever seen before. I'm not even sure we can call them footprints. Here, I'll draw it for you.
Isn't it weird, Smith? Three, we assume to be, toes and a nail, possibly in a fourth toe. We don't have enough data on it yet to be sure but I think we might have found one. Do you remember the rocks and broken eggs we found three weeks ago? Laurie found a tiny tooth in one of the shell fragments. It's one of best finds yet! Real proof that this thing isn't a mere bedtime anymore.
We've also found a tuft of hair. It's very coarse and wiry. The only thing that kept it together was this weird translucent fluid that seemed to have hardened over time in the sun. We had to send the sample back to International for further analysis. Our budget is a constant strain on things like that. It'll take weeks to hear back.
How are your boys? Still off traveling world? I hope they send you postcards.
Send my love to them.
I impatiently await your next letter. Please cram the next one with loads of excitement and gossip. I need something other than petri dishes for a while. Oh, and a care package of sweets would be lovely.
Take care,
Scarlette
P.S. Don't forget the rules. No telling and burn this after you've read it.
Literature
Pain, Death, Time
Pain is patient,
Pain is kind,
All of us bend to Time,
Too much of either, or,
A final breath,
He'll be waiting,
The Reaper, Death.
Literature
ocean ripples
A rippling effect
has the ocean
grace us, love
never left us
apart
as time
stumble into
a halt
turning
bad memories
into a
nightmare
simply forgotten,
we changed
for the
better...
Literature
Damnation or Salvation ? - Phantom of the Opera
This face, which earned a mother’s fear and loathing,
A mask, my first, unfeeling piece of clothing…
Erik could remember it all, tears barely dripping from his eyes as memories hurt him again. He remembered his mother, afraid of his appearance but still giving him love since he hid his face. She had been the only one ever… He could also remember the man who pretended to be his father. He never loved him… He sold him to bohemians. He condemned him to a life of pain, of sadness, of misery… How innocent he was by this time. How kind, how gentle…
He saw this pitiful look on Christine’s face and couldn&
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