10-15-2005, 06:35 PM
Quote:he rounded the corner of Buttercup crescent, he thought it was ironic that this suburb had such a \'pretty\' name, when all the neighbours did was spy and bitch about each other.John sat in his car for a long moment, wondering how he would respond to his wife if she confronted him. Attacked by a dog? Sure. John moved himself slowly out of the car, grimacing as the pain shot through his whole body. The rusty car door creaked as he shut it as quietly as he could, so as not to wake his family. He made his way to the door quickly, limping and stumbling over his legs, which were numb with pain. He pushed the key slowly in the front door to his white, two story home and turned.
"Speak of the devil", John murmured as Karl Frasier from across the street peered out from behind his paisley curtains, his thick Black rimmed glasses reflecting the headlights of Johns car, John returned the finger in Karls direction, taking the hint the nosey bachelor retreated.
The VW pulled up into the drive, before giving a hearty shudder and stopping. Angela, his wife; kept telling him to get a new car, they had the money, but it seemed Johns unhealthy obsession with the decomposing form had leaked into all parts of his life, the rusty but still working Beatle was testiment to this.
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