This is a small story that only myself can read,   really a escape from every day life.
The cheaple swung madly even though it was  1:00.  Where there were only supposed to be one dong, it never ceased.  The dormitory was in as hubub.  Then a ear piercing screach rang through the hearts of ever orphan at St. John's.     "He is Dead!!  He is Dead!!,"  a nun called out and all became quiet.  The saint is dead!  All the children ran down the stone cold marble steps, hearts pounding and sweat pouring down their faces.  For it was true the feeble remains of one hair no longer  graced the shrine of St. John.  A fright tear ran down the face of one of the young ones.  The bells still tolled.  "Somebody tell Nate to stop ringing those incessant bells," came the harsh skriek of the head priest.  "He can't father, he's standing over their.
"OK everyone, gather up, we have got to get this plan worked out and now!"  A small boy stood up on his chair to oppose this idea but by the sure size of his body no one even looked in his direction.  "Now everyone we.





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