"You had a gloomy birth, child. If I know right, that will lead to a gloomy life.
The day you were born was mid-winter. Freezing temperatures. I was investigating a murder. I had arrested this one guy.
A blizzard was raging outside
The walls of the cell clung closed when I went into labor.
I was driven home in a squad car. The hospital was too far away in this horrible weather.
Shush, child. Don't you hear I am telling a story?
The sad violin was singing out from the radio. The storm outside was as never before. This town has never heard of such terrible conditions.'
Stop crying, child.
Your father was gone. long before that.
Sleep, child. It's late. you have a big day tomorrow. Tomorrow- you will be gone."
YOU ARE READING
Your bookcase
RandomWelcome to your walk-in bookshelf! Here, you will find anything from poems and small clips, to long stories and awaiting chapters. Have a nice experience!
