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Everything is quiet in Comstock. The sun

  • Everything is quiet in Comstock. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and everything seems to have an "It's Friday" air about it. The only thing that is different is the

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  • way everybody look at me. Since last night everyone knows , here standing in the bus I can feel them judging me but I

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  • thyphallophobia combined with stuttering priapism, made such situations preprogrammed. Standing in the bus is still better than

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  • laying under the bus, so it could be worse. I have so many diseases I can't even remember them all, but I'm still alive. Also, I'm hooked on painkillers, but life is good. Sometime

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  • I will leave this city and make something of myself. Ignore my failing health. Make a fortune and be famous. But my wife Belinda was still in the way of it all...

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  • She was the Joker to my Batman, the Antichrist of my personal religion. If my dear wife Belinda never existed, perhaps the fortune of my dreams could have become reality. I coughed

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  • up the money for Belinda's liposuction, boob job and face lift and funded her zany idea to dress the male servants in silver speedos. I loved my wife, but her tastes were so expens

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  • ive and, frankly, weird. No wonder people at church talked behind their backs about us. Belinda was worth it, though. I pulled out my credit card & handed it to her. "Take. Spend."

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  • "Um.... okay." She responded. I normally had excellent grammar, so she knew I was nervous. "Is this about the church people?" Belinda whispered. "Because you know

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  • it ain't nothing, innit." My broken grammar was spreading. These days I try to getting by but no-one could of help. I hope to a miracle for when to fix, but time isnt by my side.

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