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This is half of a story i'm working on, i'm not good at stories myself but i'll get to the point where i'll write quite well, it's hard to write a good story, it's true.
-Alexander Feliciano


Submitted:Feb 28, 2012    Reads: 8    Comments: 0    Likes: 1   


It was the same boring morning I usually have, first I get up and try to make some breakfast, I was so tired of living my job... an author, you'll never suspect it but it is really hard to be an author when you don't have ideas or you can't even make your own breakfast right, it's just life and i have to stick with it. I shouldn't feel sorry about myself but I just want to sware right now that I have no idea to get more money, no ideas, and no inspiration at all... i'd rather die than live in this world. I got my coffee and sat on my couch and watched the television, the news anchor looked worried but he probably feels that way all the time, then he tugged his collar with a gulp and spoke " a mysterious fever has spread through the town of New Britain and now to Hartford and probably going to New York, Boston, Newport, Bangor, Vancouver, Newark, and spreading throughout the rest of the east coast of America and halfway to Columbia and Puerto Rico, as much as twenty- thousand people had died"





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