[Also in this form: fictionon102119]
[Dedicated to ending what, those things I actually hate]
Two clouds were coming; I knew that whider was up to something.
It smelled bad not in a healing way
If you bent in you would feel it stifling you to almost the experience of death.
They say, he used something over the mouth and nose; and that’s how he got her to fall down.
She remembers it smelled really really bad; like someone’s breath that is unimaginably gross; but not something that you could ever get to in that
Stink.
What bothers me most of, about incidents like that, is that he came in from behind her; swiped her face; held it down while she was still standing
And that in it she was actually small compared to him, and I don’t just mean shorter and lighter; I mean smaller.
He deserves that.
When…
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Momentary Lapse Of Sanity 