"If I should."        That was to himself. He was trying to arrive at a sane conclusion. He was trying to revive the thought of all his father had said to him in the state of mind. He couldn't hurl the odds. He hoped to make an apt meaning of the stance but that was to no avail. At least for that moment. He was yet putting his instinct into the rage of his stance. He was making his stance conspicuous. He was making his pain assume a salient stance. He was trying to make a sapid seal. He couldn't really be sure. He was trying as hard as possible to make odds of the stance. He couldn't make his heart place a tag. He couldn't make his instinct feed him. He couldn't make his pain dictate what his instinct was supposed to supplant. He didn't want what would make the stance severed. He wanted to make an apt meaning of it. He wanted to claim a stance on it. He was trying as much as possible to toss his ins

     "Opps."       She had thought that she would break her back. Not really her back but several other parts of her body. She had thought that twould be a great pain for her. She had been nursing the odds since she had been caught in the claws of the apt atmosphere. She had felt that she would be a pawn of the time. She had felt that she would lose her breath. She had felt like the breath would be bruised and would skedaddle. She wasn't sure what would be and had been supplanted. But she was quite glad that it turned out to be something else. She was quite glad that she could hold on to so many a things. She was glad that she was helped by some generous persons. She wasn't sure who the person was or who twould be. She knew that she would look of course. But she wanted to sieve her options firstly. She wanted to put up with the odds. She wanted to linger in her thoughts. She did feel no need for that, but she

     "So, what now?"       He tried not to look at her. He was still vexed with her. She was doing what he didn't like. She had done it and had taken a new form. There were quite the numbers of things he wouldn't put up with. He didn't care whether or not he was being rude. It didn't really matter to him. He could use the odds. He could play around the odds. Didn't really matter to him. He couldn't even be sure what did matter to him anymore. He was trying to put up with the recent feelings which were gnawing at his instinct. He was trying as possible to ignore them. He knew that he wouldn't keep up with that forever. He knew that he would still have to knuckle under some odds. He didn't know what those odds were or would be. He didn't know how to prepare for them. He knew that time would test him and he would be read for the test. He knew that things would play out odd firstly then would take a new turn. By t

     "Where are we?"      Fate was becoming fetish because even none of them was able to figure out where they were. They probably were trying to register the odd. They couldn't bring themselves to doing it. One wasn't so sure of how he was trying. He didn't know what that was or what would be supplanted. He was trying to ignore things which were so real. He didn't know why he would have to do that. He didn't know why he was putting up with that. He didn't know why fate was that treacherous. He was making his rage known. He was weary of hiding it. He didn't want to hide it anymore. He didn't want to fix it the closet of his rage. He couldn't had done better. He was hoping that he would do better. He couldn't be so sure. He didn't know which thought he was supposed to embrace. He didn't know which rage he was supposed to leap at. He wasn't sure what to think or what not to. His thoughts had been shattered by whooshi

      "Who are you? Make it as plain as you would."        They had drawn to the figures. He was quite sure that he had been sane in the first place. He had known that his rage had not been displaced. He knew what grasp he was up for. He was only thinking of putting up with his odds. Those were all he could do at that time. He knew that he would figure the rest out. He was just finding an excuse to use. He couldn't choose. He did wish that he could. He couldn't help it. He tried as much as possible to. Twas more than much for him. He didn't know what rage he was supposed to fleshen. Time would give up on him. Time would prune his rage. Time would feed him all he did want. He was ready for all he had been preparing for. His motives had been sharpened and his zeal was ready. He did tiptoe his ire. He would figure the whole deal out. He would make it into what he thought best. He would make it into the best