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There was always something relaxing about the desert. The way the wind droned over the dunes, the emptiness echoing it’s calm energy. From the tower we lived in, we could see it all. The horizon held nothing for us, but we knew if we were to cross the desert in the right direction, we would soon see home, a speck in the distance.
The door swung silently on its hinges and Death entered the home. The cold air of home welcomed him and was ready to warm it with the logs he carried. Within moments, Death’s home was made warm and bright with the light of fire.
The day had a wonderfully awful beginning. Let’s take a moment to appreciate that phrase because it seems to be the only phrase to carry my sarcasm through writing. The amount of ill feelings I felt by the time work ended was weighing me down in every sense. Physical, emotional and mental breakdowns were on the way.
We’ve all had our strange encounters in life. Some of us claim to be disturbed by a being who failed to move on to another life, some claim there are psychopathic killers in their basement. Me, I have the worst of all in my own home. Something that haunts me day and night, but my family fails to see it. There is a ghost in my home.
“I’m sorry, but there is nothing that can be done,” the lawyer told me. “ The contract is binding and just vague enough to allow them to do this, but clear enough to say you can’t fight back.”
“What will I do?” the client wept. “They will take everything!”
Be sure to follow!