She wandered into the fog. The fog wrapped her in postnatal gloom. Deep in the bowels of her being, she flopped like a rag doll. Unable to stand, she crawled the wasteland. "Goo," gurgled Emma. Lisa turned at the sound. She roused herself from the numbness that weighed her down and stumbled to the cot.
The Misery of Sin
One, two, three, and out goes he! In tailored suit and leather shoes, Mr Loral Johnson, MP, strode to the Iron Door and pressed the button. Inside a siren wailed. Within moments, the clank of a drawn bolt doubled his pulse. An arthritic hand, though with a grip of steel, clasped his starched white collar and yanked him into the stronghold. The fire of God 's indignation melted his hardened heart. Then the Hammer of Damnation swung down, and a gaping hole replaced his hardened mind. His insensitivities to his fellow man obliterated. Oh, happy day! # Sing, Lal de lal, &c. The Sentence-ender The writer opened The Pop-up Punctuation Book. Lift the flaps! Pull the tabs! Inside the pop-up book, hidden behind a flap, was the question mark. The writer had used the question mark to end the past sentence. So the punctuation mark asked to be excused from end punctuation. But the writer wanted the question mark to end the present sentence. The writer had asked the full stop to end the sentence. …show more content…
"No, no," said the full stop. The writer lifted the flap, pulled the tab to slide the punctuation mark into place, and ended another sentence with a question mark.
The Soulless Man
The Soulless Man left the city and sat on the far side of the hill. His mind was as sad as night. No light could dispel the gloom. And he cried, "Lead me to salvation." The earth opened her mouth and swallowed him. The earth was void and darkness was upon the deep. How great the darkness! A long thin hand reached out of the ground, plucked a star from the sky, and shone it into the pit of the earth. The light shone in the darkness. But the darkness knew it not. The Soulless Man stood on the spiral staircase that coiled down beyond the star 's dying light. From the faded darkness came the cry of a tormented soul. It was his soul, his true self. He sold it for the spoils of the Underworld. And now he wanted it back. He bought a white rose, the Celestial, with his last coin. His voice echoed through the realm of mental night as he pleaded with the Keeper of Souls to give back the soul he had spurned, but now craved. "I beg of you, give back my soul." He threw the rose into the wishing well. Yes, he wished to bribe the Devil. The flower swirled in the air and fell into the abyss of Hell. Down, down, down it spun. Until . . . Clang! Hell 's Gate opening drew a sigh from the Soulless Man. His soul was free from its prison. Sing, Hallelujah. Hallelujah, hallelujah! "Come," said the Soulless Man. "It is I, Golan. You are my soul. Come join with me." # We merge into one, out of darkness, out of darkness, out of darkness, into His wonderful light. # The Soulless Man was whole again. Then he prayed to the Lord his God from the bowels of the earth. And lo! The Lord reached out his hand and lifted him out of the pit. So, with his white rose, the Soulless Man won his goal. Sing, Hallelujah. Hallelujah, hallelujah! Amen. The Stalking Tom Up and down I walk. She will be along soon. She thinks of this corner of Queen 's Park as a haven. I am the cuckoo in the nest. Her sanctuary battered down. My family moved to Highton for a change of scene. But I, Eugene Clifford, have trolled into nocturnal habits. Prunella is a bowl of cream. She is drop-dead gorgeous. And her voice--what vocal chords. She struts through the park singing. I stand stiff, my pulse racing. She is my idea of a cream reward. A reward worth the risk of being caught stalking. I have