Life after death for a so-called angel
okay so I’m dyslexic and have trouble spelling and reading under the must littlest presser but i love to read my iphone has a dragon speech translator that help a lot in the righting process but the story is all mine let me no what you think please thank you Luke Graham
Charlotte busty hollow, stored waiting for her death, the light was bright as hell and don’t let any one tell you the sensation of dying and the act its self is all sentimental and weepy with sad music toped with your so-called human mother tiers
Nope my death was -- for a better word.
Boring like my life, “god I can’t even die right for fug sake,” and to add to the all ready full, practically over flowing spelling competition cup of my geeky-nes, that just so happens to be my life well past life -- I’m dead, can’t for get that little not so trivial bit of info,
I don’t swear seriously not since I was five years old and my grate, grate, grate granddad had a stroke and lost all the movement in his left side of his body,
Well to my five year old bran his face reminded my of ice cream melting on a hot summer day with one of those cones waffle like things.
So there I was five year-old and thinking of waffle cones and ice cream when hole and be-holed my great granddad how I love and cheeriest and never hared a bad word from, ever—I just fort I’d put that out there, no seriously this is the man how gave me money and free hug.
All because Ken dumped Barbie broke up and Ken left for the boy next door, yes I’m wired, really it dose stuff to you when you have a big family, with three uncles and one brother how are gay, okay so anyway -- I look up at my and granddad contemplating whether or not to give him my special – which usually concise in a hug and kiss for good measure “what I was five”
He terns and looks at me and said
“FFFFUUUCCCKKK”
“No granddaddy, no say naughty word, no hug for you” I said, and pocked my tongue out at him, only now do I see the irony of that action
To be honest, I didn’t no whether to laugh or cry I was horrified but not as much as when mummy took me aside and said
“Oh Hun your granddad is very sick”
“Like when I eat too much chocolate or drink to mush milk tell granddaddy he shore-dent do that”
“Uh no not quit, kinder-like when you scraped your knee”
“Owe that harts did you give him a plaster”
“Kind-of you now how it took time for it to heal”
“It took a whole week”
Charlotte held up 5 fingers as if to count the days “how many days are in a week mummy”
“Seven well its going to take a lot longer than that for your gram-par to heal okay”
“Okay”
I learned latter that when your have a stoke the only noise you can my sounds like the word fuck, so I think swearing is over rated
Especially when your five and your loved one is in hospital, waiting for death as am I
It never came
