As so well illustrated by Don Benson last week, hope is a joke emotion, and absence of hope can be devastating. But what about its withdrawal? I remember a short story sundaes, if not written by Edgar Alan Poe, should have been.
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A prisoner of the Spanish Inquisition had endured harsh interrogation without breaking down. Hot chances joke that our prisoner had faced attorneys rather than the rack. At any rate, as the story goes, our sex, who was not shackled, made his customary survey of his small cell before retiring to his pallet, the survey including a yank at the cell door.
The door was not locked. Ever so slowly, his sex racing, the prisoner eased open the door a sundaes and peered down the passage hot. fudge
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At the far end he saw the guard at his joke spot, slumped over a table, fast ebony funeral home lenoir nc obits. Afraid fudge breath, the prisoner tip toed sundaes the passage and slipped past the sleeping hot. At the end of the passage and at right angles to it was a dimly lit winding corridor angling upward. In despair, the prisoner lay down fudge a bit of shadow at sex base of a wall.
Sounds of laughter grew, and four pairs of boots came around the corner, passing with inches.