This story never ends, for when it concludes

This story never ends, for when it concludes the very same events unfold just as I am going to relate to you now, & it is all my fault. I should have never have taken the drifter's

little pencil at the putt-putt golf course, or was it the library? I wracked my brains to resolve these divergent remembrances, but luckily the current contortion was unwrackable &

I started humming Rock the Casbah. That song is an earworm, sure to rid me of any lingering thoughts of pencils, books, or putt-putt. "The Sharif don't like it..." Now all I could

An announcement came over the loud speaker "30 seconds to comply" I looked around for a place to hide. He wasn't sure what the announcement meant either but didn't seemed to be

too worried about it. He and I gracefully left the building, making out that we weren't there at the time and had never heard the message. We made eye contact. "You look beautiful

with that carcass around your neck" he said. 'what carcass?' i said. I put my hand on my neck. I felt nothing but there was blood on my hands. I screamed and screamed until he

stabbed me, slicing my vocal chords. He also jabbed me in the leg, arm, and in the stomach 5 times. I could physically no longer make a sound. I fell to the floor, looked up and

watched the spectacular fireworks show. John Travolta held me, embracing my head with his Old Spicy hands. He had killed John Lithgow, but too late to save me. In his eyes, the

pure light of craziness glowed strong. "You were always more than a woman to me," he said. "Ah, ah, ah, ah stayin' alive," I whispered. But I was wrong.