lalalalala

lalalalala

Cindy turned off the retro station playing the Banana Splits and began the work she brought home from Langley. As a CIA agent, she had seen quite a lot, but

spelling on these kids' homework was atrocious! Frustrated, she pinned the homework around the room, then flicked red inkballs until the papers were liberally covered. There was no

sympathy for the kids. Some of them probably should have not been in the grade they were in, because they

lacked the emotional maturity to handle the interaction, even if their intellect was off the charts. She was lumped in with them, but for her it was just a bad day. Her knife slid

into the toaster and 1500 watts shot through her skull like a school of barracuda. The fuse popped and she sat dazed. She felt, she felt, she couldn't think of the word. She felt s

jk she died the end

was just beginning, like all beginnings, jk thought, here we go again, didnt she know that every end has a beginning, this was just like her . . .always leaving things unsaid and

then she wrote it all down. And that was how JK authored Harry Potter.

Great stories often mimic life. Fiction is only a mirror of the imaginations of men!