Storys of Private Hice

WinterBane

WinterBane

Soltive pre ordained priest warlike additives initially a Jesus Freak becoming cold hearted in the winter. Bane has come with hatred of simple minded people. Sexual orientation is nill. Macabration indentation on the quilt. A welcome matt with a towel for spills. I have a small fortune tied. Up is not an option now. There is only snow up there eventually. The water line is nearer the river then the streaming stream of water near me on the highway catching all the melting riverlets as they run away from home in WinterBane. Some men still have strength but they abuse it think to break down boarded ruins tearing down old barns and cornors of old abandoned houses where homeless and poor people might find shelter from the rain. Where will they find to dwell. Because of wealth they have a large area to heat in WinterBane they have a larger of a structure the more expensive in the WinterBane with sleet coming down in Sheets of Ice looked like a solid wall of water hitting me Frost icing clothing no thing was DRY ice all over me a few moments after I stepped toe out of sheltor walking on the SIDE of the road cant walk on the roadway slipping on the ICE stepped offroad walking in the treelined. I found what looked like a Najavo Hogan brogaded outside there was clothes hannging on branches a Babylon Garden in the snow. While the whole city was whited out at degrees zero. The goose has a liver. Oh Pâté the liver rules the Goose is cooked with too many alcholic incumbents while the minutes of the meeting Read all old activity reported long ago nothing is new under the sun. Nothing there is nothing is there nothing in my past has preparred me for my future education has failed me for the alcholic eye was ruined for functioning in SOciety degenerate reborne. Nothing smelles worse to a man then sex mixed up with tobacco and alchohol how can anyone live as porn objects and still survive the toll booth smells like whiskey before three pee em it takes the heart to control it takes the lust to want. I feared to die for I was sinnor I feared one day to lay underneathe the snow ensheathed but then one day has come to eye EYE Fear No Snow EYE Fear No Snow I am a man. The snow no longer bothers me. I am beneath it all, My soul is not inside of me. It leaves me when I fall. As I lay here silently,wating for the trumpet, It will blow!
I do not any longer fear the snow.
Copyright © 2006 charles hice

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