If there is nothing“Such a penetrating gaze could not belong to a mere mortal. Some of us live very long lives and are still subject to surprises up until the moment of our death. Those eyes, however, had been hardened by things from another world. The sound of oppressive silence poured out from the audience. His words had moved them with surprising effect; however, if anything had been hardened by the things of another world, it would have been the look on the face of Chief Officer Edward Norris of the District Police as he spoke those last words. Sleep had not seen his eyes since we left the hospital, and that was three days ago. However, he delivered our speech without hindrance. Never has a monotonous sound produced such a mysterious dance with our various distractors. The coffee stains, the tangled moustache, the usual talking points for those with more opulent tastes were as evident as the absent thought. The speech had ended as it had begun, in silence, the crowd waiting for the leader's signal. everything we have at this point,” the boss said as his head finally turned away and he started to move away from the podium. His last words “Thank you”. The crowd exploded. Everyone had a question for someone. Hands, voices and cameras filled the air as I watched from my shadow of a seat in the back. The old ceiling fans of the church hall only peeked out from behind the chaos a world of the opposite kind. It was time for me to leave. I moved from the familiar plastic chairs of the local church hall to the brand new oak doors that, I had heard, had been installed only a week before this impromptu meeting she bore her scars and misery... middle of paper... ircase'. The second floor needed a lot more work. The walls were bare, the floors were bare, and the atmosphere was dry in the bedroom, the officer and I looked at each other, and then we both looked at Miss Sheffield. “Open the door,” he stated. The door was slowly creaked open and the devil was left to play with his mind. “Oh my God,” he gasped, “that was written with…” “Blood? Yes,” I believed in an imagination that had properties similar to those of most plastics. You could stretch and distort the mind as you forced new ideas into the mind, but there is no way to reset the mind. With each increasingly shocking image, the threshold was only offset by a certain degree of personal displeasure. The only real danger lay in not having the ability to stretch out and meet the demands of what was before our eyes.