Hello hello heeeellooo!
It's me Patrick, back again at the hands of the account!
Here is a piece written by GeesusIsMySaviour !!!!!!
Thanks friend!
WARNING
SMUT(?)
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It was a beautiful day in the city of Washington. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and there wasn't a cloud in the sky-
No it was the complete opposite to that, actually. The rain poured violently from the solemn September sky.
The sun was setting along the horizon in the distance, giving the above, a serene hue of indigo. Candy floss clouds sail through the evening.
It was probably about 7:40, I decided, so it was about time for supper. I grab my waistcoat, slithering into the tight fabric and emerge from the library of which I spend most of my days.
My house, colossal and white, resides somewhere discrete. Not too far away from the city but equally as close to the rural countryside. I take long strides down the ornament adorned hallway, hearing the faint tap of my shoes against the dark oak floor.
I come to a stop at the grand staircase, standing for a few seconds taking my surroundings in and appreciating what I have. It felt like looking over my kingdom- not that I owned one. Imagine how that must feel: To rule over your people. To make the decisions.
To be powerful. Not only that, but to also know the feeling of love and to know thousands and millions of people are influenced by your every move. People who are just like myself but, them looking up to me for answers and guidance.
I shake my head getting too enthusiastic over that idea. I make my way downstairs into the dining room, and as if on cue, the dinner bell rings.
However, I was mistaken by the doorbell as they do not have a distinct melody. Cynthia, the maid, rushes off to answer the caller, lightly treading across the carpet through to the main hall, opening the grand doors.
I, being curious, also wander through out of the long room, following the path of our maid, peeking round the corner of the archway and spotting a man with a tall hat standing under the veranda.
He was about 25, I guessed, myself being 23. He stood at around 6 foot five, not being particularly broad or thin. Now, not that I cared, but he wasn't exactly what I'd call attractive; one grey eye slightly lower than its twin, a hooked nose and a rather ugly looking wart just above the corner of his cracked lips. A few strands of dark hair hang loosely from under the rim of his hat, and from what I could see of his clothes, he was absolutely soaked.
I hear the two talking, the gentleman sniffing between words as if he had the flu. The words I catch from their conversation, 'Please may I come in miss, for I have no other place to stay.', anchors my attention. Just when I hear her turn the poor fellow down, I pipe up from the doorway.
'How about you come in, sir, you look dreadful. Maybe a bowl of soup and dry clothes would do you good, no?'
Cynthia turns to face me, a surprised look on her face,'Y-yes of course you may, I shall go back to the kitchen and prepare more soup. The spare room is up the stairs and the second one on the left, shall you want it'. She scurries off quickly down the hall, apron swaying gently as she moved.
His eyes light up at that suggestion, 'You are implausibly thoughtful. Thank you for your offering. You don't mind?'
The corner of my mouth flinches into a small friendly smile, 'Of course not, anything for you.'
