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black swan green

by:Marslite     2019-09-02
Mando did not step into my office in January.
This is Dad\'s rule.
But the phone rang twenty-fivetimes.
Normal people give up after ten or eleven, unless it is a matter of life and death. Don’t they?
Dad has an answering machine, like James Garner in The Rockford file, with a large tape.
But he\'s been out of power recently.
The phone rang thirty times.
Julia couldn\'t hear it in her converted attic because \"don\'t you want me?
\"It was slammed and killed by the league. Forty rings.
Mom couldn\'t hear it because the washing machine was circulating crazy and she was cleaning the living room. Fiftyrings.
This is not normal.
The father\'s pose was messed up by a giant on M5 and the police only had this office number because of all his other I. D.
Was it burned?
We may lose our last chance to see our burnt father in the terminal ward.
So I went in and thought of a bride walking into the blue beard room after being told not to go. (
Blue Beard, mind, is waiting for this to happen. )
Dad has a lot of pound notes in his office, paper, but also metal.
The blinds were down and felt like at night, not at ten in the morning.
There is a serious clock on the wall, exactly the same as the serious clock on the school wall.
There was a photo of dad shaking hands with Craig salt when he was appointed as regional sales director in Greenland. (
Supermarket chain green space, rather than the national green space. )
Dad\'s IBM computer is on the steel table.
The cost of IBMs is several thousand.
The office phone is red like the nuclear hotline, and it has the button you press, not the dial you see on the regular phone.
Anyway, I took a deep breath, picked up the receiver and said our number.
At least I can say that without a stutter. Usually.
But the person at the other end did not answer. \"Hello? ” I said. “Hello?
\"They breathe like they cut themselves on paper.
\"Can you hear me?
I can\'t hear you.
I recognized the music of Sesame Street very faintly.
\"If you can hear me\"
I remember a film from the Children\'s Film Foundation.
\"Click on the phone once.
\"There is no faucet, only more Sesame Street.
I want to know, \"you may have made a mistake . \"
A baby began to cry and the receiver fell.
When people listen, they make a sound of listening.
I heard it, so they heard it.
\"It is also possible to be hanged for the sake of the sheep, just as it is for the sake of the handkerchief.
\"MissThrockmorton taught us a long time ago.
Because I had a bit of a reason to get into the forbidden room, I took a look through my dad\'s razor --
Over glebe, pass through the cockerel trees, on more fields, all the way to Mount theMalvern.
Pale Morning, cold sky, Frost shell on the mountain, but no sign of sticky snow, worse luck.
Dad\'s swivelly chair is like the laser tower of the Millennium Falcon.
I was furious at the flying Russian MiG running in Malverns prison.
Soon thousands of people between here and Cardiff owe me their lives.
The Glebe is littered with messy fusilagand black wings.
When the Soviet pilot presses the ejection seat, I shoot them with an anesthetic dart.
Our Marines will drag them away.
I refuse all the medals.
When mom invited Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan in, I told them, \"I\'m just doing my job.
\"Dad has this great pencil sharpener on his desk.
It makes the pencil sharp enough to pierce the body armor.
Pencil is my father\'s favorite. I prefer 2Bs.
The doorbell rang.
I put the blind back in place, checked that I didn\'t leave any other signs of invasion, slipped out and flew downstairs to see who it was.
The last six steps I took in one deathdefying bound. Moron, grinny-zitty as ever.
His bumper is getting thicker and thicker, pay attention.
\"You can never guess what it is! ”\"What?
\"Do you know the lake in the woods ? \"\"What about it? ”“It’s only”—
Idiots found out we were not heard.
\"Disappeared, frozen solid!
Half the children in the village are there now.
Ace doss or what? ”“Jason!
Mom showed up from the kitchen.
\"You let the cold in!
Either invite Dean in. hello Dean—
Or close the door. ”“Um . . .
Go out for a while, mom. ”“Um . . . where?
\"Just to get some healthy fresh air.
This is a strategic mistake.
\"What are you doing?
I wanted to say \"nothing,\" but Hamman decided not to let me say it.
\"Why am I doing something?
\"When I put on my navy coat, I avoided her staring at me.
\"May I ask, what did your new black coat do to offend you?
I still can\'t say anything. ” (
The truth is, black means it\'s hard for you to imagine yourself. knock.
Adults cannot be expected to understand. )
\"My luggage is a little warm, that\'s all. It’s parky out.
Lunch time is 1.
\"Mom went back and changed her bag.
\"Dad is going home for dinner.
Wear a wool hat or your head will freeze.
\"The wool hat is gay, but I can put it in my pocket later. “Good-bye then, Mrs.
\"Tyler,\" said the idiot. “Good-
Goodbye, Dean. \"Mom said.
Mom never likes idiots.
Idiot is my height, he\'s fine, but Jesus he\'s gravy.
Idiot wearsankle-
The pie in the charity store, living in the Drucker\'s house, finally turned into a pile of gravy.
His real name is Dean Moran.
Rhyme with \"Warren)but our P. E. teacher Mr.
In our first week, Kaver started calling him an \"idiot\" but it got stuck.
I call him \"Dean\" if we are alone, but the name is not just the name.
Kids who are really popular will be called by their name, so NickYew is always \"Nick \".
A somewhat popular child like Gilbert swinad has some respectful nicknames like \"Yadi \".
\"Then there are children like me who call others by our last name.
Here we are, urinating children.
Just take the nickname, like Moran idiot or Nicholas Bria, he\'s a underwear-free bra.
Like the army, it\'s all teams.
If I call Gilbert swyad \"swyad\" he will kick me in the face.
Or, if I call an idiot \"Dean\" in front of everyone, it will hurt my position.
So you have to be careful.
The girl wouldn\'t do that, Dawn Maddon was a boy and he was wrong in some experiments.
Girls don\'t waste too much like boys either. (
Still, just before the school Christmas break-up, Dawn Maddon and Andrea Bozard started shouting \"Bitch! ” and “Slag!
\"Line up in the bus after school.
They have hiccups and hair. )
Sometimes I want to be a girl.
They are usually more civilized.
But if I admit this out loud, I will scribble down the bumper on my locker.
This happened when floyd Chaceley admitted that he liked John Sebastian Bach.
Please note that if they knew that Elliot Bolivar, who published poetry in the Black Swan Green Paris magazine, was me, they would use blunt wooden tools to kill me gou behind the tennis court, and spray the Sex Pistol logo on my tombstone.
So anyway, when I walked to the lake with the idiot, he told me about the trix ectrix he got for Christmas.
On Boxing Day, its transformer exploded and almost wiped out his whole family.
I said, \"of course . \"
But the idiot swore on his South grave.
So I told him that he should write about this life on BBC and getEsther Rantzen and have the manufacturer pay compensation.
Moron thought it might be hard because his dad bought it from the brummi atTewkesbury market on Christmas Eve.
I dare not ask what \"Brummie\" is in case it is the same as \"bummer\" or \"bumboy\" which means homosexuality.
\"Yes,\" I said. \"I see what you mean.
The idiot asked me what I had for Christmas.
I actually got 13.
50 book tokens and a poster in the middle
Earth, but the book is gay, so I talked about the game of life, which I got from UncleBrian and Aunt Alice.
This is a board game. you first drive your car to the end of your life with the most money.
We went through the crossroads of the Black Swan and into the forest.
I wish I could apply it to my lips, because they crack when it\'s so cold.
Soon we heard the children shouting through the woods.
\"The last of the lake is spaz!
\"The Idiot shouted, and began to chatter when I was not ready.
He tripped over the frozen tire rut tripped, flew up and landed on his ass. TrustMoran.
\"I think I might have a concussion,\" he said . \"
\"If you hit your head, you will have a concussion.
Unless your brain is your ass. ”What a line.
Unfortunately, none of the important people heard.
The lake in the forest is spectacular.
Small bubbles are trapped in the ice like inkes glacier mint.
Neil Bross has the right Olympic skates and he rents them out for 5 p even though Pete redmalley is allowed to use them for free so other kids can see his
Skating everywhere, also want to go.
It\'s hard enough to stay up on the ice.
I fell down before I got the hang of sliding coach.
Rose Wilcox showed up with his cousin Gary Drake and dawn. den.
All three players are very good.
Drake and Wilcox are taller than me. (
They will cut off the fingers on the gloves to show the scars they left as the stammered Queen.
Mom will kill me. )
Squelch sat on an island in the middle of the lake where ducks usually live, shouting, \"Arseover tit! Arse over tit!
\"Who fell down.
Squelch was funny because he was born too early so no one ever hit him.
It\'s not hard anyway.
Grant Birch was riding his servant, Philip Phelps, on a Raleigh helicopter on the ice.
He kept the balance for a few seconds, but when he pulled the bike, it flew.
After it landed, it looked like Yuri Geller tortured it to death.
Phelps was so gross.
I bet he\'s thinking about what he\'s going to tell his dad.
Then Pete redmalley and Grant Birch decided that the frozen lake was perfect for the English bulldog.
Nick Yew said, \"Well, I agree,\" so I decided.
I hate English bulldog.
When Miss Throckmorton banned it in our primary school, Lee Biggs dropped three teeth while playing with it, and I was relieved.
But this morning, any child who denied the love of the English Bulldog looked like a monster.
Especially the children on Kingfisher grass like me.
About twenty years old
Our five boys, plus Dawn mcden, were picked up on their ass like slaves in the slave market.
Grant Birch and Nick Young are co-captains of a team.
Pete redmalley and Gilbert swinad are the other captains.
Ross Wilcox and Gary Drake were both selected before Pete redmalley, but I was selected by Grant Birch on level 6, which is not awkward.
The last two left are idiots and Squelch.
Grant Birch and Pete redmalley jokingly said, \"No, we want to win, you can let both of them win!
Idiots and squitch had to laugh as if they thought it was fun too.
Maybe Squelch did it. (Moron didn’t.
When everyone looked at him, after we all told him that we were playing his game, he had the same face as at that time --and-
Send him out and hide him.
It took him an hour to work out and nobody was looking for him. )
Nick Yew won the race, so we were the first runners, and the team at Pete redmalley was the bulldog.
The coat of the unimportant children is placed at both ends of the lake as a goalkeeper for passing and defending.
Except for Dawn mcden, the girls and the children were cleared of ice.
Redmalley\'s bulldog formed a backpack in the middle, and our runners slid towards our starting goal.
Now my heart is playing drums.
Bulldog and runner like sprinter.
The captains sang the sacred songs.
\"British Bulldog! One two three!
We scream like the gods dare to die.
I slipped.
Deliberately careless)
Just before the previous wave of runners rushed into the bulldog.
This will be the most difficult bulldog in the race against our frontrunner. (
The Bulldog fixed the runner\'s shoulders on the ice and asked longgenno to shout \"British Bulldog One Two Three \". ”)
Luckily, my strategy cleared some space for our family goalkeeper.
My plan worked well at the beginning.
The Tuki brothers and Gary Drake all squeezed into Nick Yaode.
One flying leg kicked my calves, but I crossed them without the cominga cropper.
But Rose Wilcox found me.
I tried to twist around, but Wilcox grabbed my wrist firmly and tried to pull me down.
But instead of trying to fight for freedom, I grabbed his wrist firmly and threw me out and hit the Little Ant and Darren Crom directly.
The ace on the face or what?
Games and sports are not meant to participate, not even to win.
Games and sports are really humiliating your enemies.
Lee Biggs tried to deal with me with poxy rugbytackle, but I shook him out effortlessly.
He was too worried about being left behind as a decent bulldog.
I\'m the fourth player to go home.
Grant Butch shouted, \"Jesse\'s job is good --boy!
\"Nick Yew broke free from Tookeysand Gary Drake and returned home.
About the third runner was caught and became a bulldog the next pass.
I hate the English bulldog.
It forces you to become a traitor.
So no matter what, we all shout \"British Bulldog one, two, three!
Like last time, but I have no chance this time.
Ross Wilcox, Gary Drake, and Dawn Maddon have been eyeing me since the beginning.
No matter how hard I try to escape this war, there is no hope.
I haven\'t crossed half a lake before they found me.
Ross Wilcox grabbed my leg, Gary Drake overturned me, Dawn mcden sat on my chest and pressed my shoulder down with his knee.
I just lay there and let them turn me into a bulldog.
I am always a runner in my heart.
Gary Drake gave me a dead leg, which may or may not be intentional.
Don mcden\'s eyes are cruel, like a Chinese employee, and sometimes seeing her at school makes me miss her all day.
Rose Wilcox jumped up and punched like he scored in Old Trafford. The spazzo.
\"Yes, yes, Wilcox,\" I said, \"three to one, well done.
Wilcox gave me a V.
Sign and leave for another battle.
Grant Burch and Nick Yew made a windmill in a bag of thick Bulldog pockets, half of which were flying.
Then Gilbert swanard shouted at the top of his lungs: \"piiiiilonnn!
\"It\'s a sign for every runner and every bulldog on the lake who can throw themselves on a twisted, moaning, growing pyramid of children.
The game itself is a bit forgotten.
I held back and pretended to limp from my dead leg.
Then we heard the sound of a chainsaw in the forest and flew straight to us along the runway.
This is not a chain saw.
On his purple suzuki150 cc spoiler is Tom Yew.
Instead of wearing a helmet, Bruto Noak grabbed his back tightly.
The British Bulldog was aborted because Tom Yew was a little legend of Black Swan Green.
Tom Yew served on a frigate called HMSCoventry in the Royal Navy.
Every Led Zep album by Tom Yew has it to play the guitar introduction to the ladder to heaven.
\"Tom Yao and England goalkeeper Peter Hilton are actually shaking hands.
Bruto NOAC is a less glorious legend.
He left school last year without even taking the CSEs.
Now, he works at the pork scratch factory in Upton. on-Severn. (
There\'s smoked marijuana from rumorsPluto Noak, but it\'s obviously not the kind that makes your brain blossom and makes you jump from the roof to the railing. )
Tom Ye parked his Suzuki on a narrow bench by the lake and sat on it.
Bruto NOAC thum said thank you on his back, then went to talk to toCollette Bozard, and according to idiot\'s sister Kelly, he and toCollette Bozard
The older child, like the disciples of Jesus, sat on a bench in front of him, bypassing fag. (
Ross Wilcox and Gary Drake smoke now
To make matters worse, Ross Wilcox asked Tom Yew about Suzuki, and Tom Yew replied that Ross Wilcox was also 18 years old. )
GrantBurch told his servant Phelps to go for a run, buy him a peanut York and a can of top deck from Rhydd\'s shop and yell at him, \"run, I tell you
Left a deep impression on Yew. Us middle-
The children sat on the blistering ground around the bench.
Older kids start talking about the best things on TV during Christmas and New Year.
Tom Yew began to say that he had seen the great escape and everyone agreed that everything else was rubbish compared to the great escape, especially the one where Steve McQueen was caught by barbed wire Nazison
But then Tom Yew said that he thought the film was a bit long and everyone agreed that it had dragged on for a long time, even though it was classic. (
I didn\'t see it because mom and dad watched two RonniesChristmas special shows.
But I keep an eye on it so I can pretend to see it at the beginning of next week. )
For some reason, this talk has turned to the worst way to die.
\"It was bitten by a green mamba,\" estimated Gilbert Swinder . \".
\"The dead snake in the world.
Your organs explode, so your urine is mixed with your blood. Agony.
Grant Birch sniffed, \"Of course it\'s a pain, but you die fast.
To make matters worse, havinyer\'s skin is peeling like a sock.
That\'s what Apache Indians do.
The best thing to do is keep it going all night.
Pete redmalley said he had heard of a total execution.
\"They tie you up and they tie the Philadelphia cheese to jax.
Then they locked yerin in the coffin with a tube.
Then they sent the hungry mouse into the tube.
The mouse eats cheese, then continues to eat cheese and enters you.
Everyone looked at Tom Yew for answers.
\"I realized this dream.
He smoked a cigarette that lasted for a century.
\"After the atomic war, I was with the last survivors.
We\'re on the highway.
No cars, no weeds.
Every time I look back, we are missing.
You see, radio is receiving them one by one.
He glanced at his brother, Nick, and then flew over Lake froson.
\"It\'s not that I will die that bothers me.
I will be the last one.
\"No one said a lot.
Ross Wilcox has changed our direction.
He smoked a cigarette on the costume man lastedan age.
\"If it weren\'t Winston Churchill, you \'d all be speaking German now.
\"Of course, like Ross Wilcox, he will run away from arrest and go to the rebels.
I would like to tell you that in fact, if the Japanese did not explode at Pearl Harbor, the United States would not enter the war, and the British would be starved to death and surrender. Winston Church has been executed as a war criminal.
But I know I can\'t.
There are a group of finalists.
The words there, and the bloody ruthlessness of this January Hangman.
So I said, I was busy for a waz and stood up and walked a little along the path to the village.
\"Hey, Tyler!
Shake your Dongdong more than twice, you are playing it!
Neil Bross and Ross Wilcox had a good laugh.
I sent them aV.
Sign on my shoulder.
Things about shaking your stuff are very popular now.
I can\'t believe anyone will ask what that means.
The tree is always a relief, second only to people.
Gary Drake and Ross Wilcox may have been scolding me all the time, but the more weak the sound is, the less I want to go back.
I hate myself for not having Ross Wilcox speak German instead of him, but it\'s already dead to start a knot there.
The frost on the thorny branches is thawed, and the fat drops --dripdripping.
It gives me a little comfort.
There is still some rough snow left in the small pit where the sun cannot reach, but it is not enough to fight the snow. (
Let the guest eat glass food just to laugh and he is afraid to kill them. )
A Robin, a Pecker, a magpie, a black bird, I think I heard a strange sound, although I\'m not sure you were in January
Then, where the faint path from the house in the forest met the main path leading to the lake, I heard a boy gasping and banging in this way.
Between a pair of wishes, I squeezed myself out of sight.
Phelps grabbed his owner\'s peanut, joaraki, and rushed over with a can of code machines. (
Rhydd\'s definitely not on the top floor. )
Behind the pine tree, a possible path leads to the slope.
I think, I know all the paths of this part of the forest.
But not this.
When Tom Yew leaves, Pete redmalley and Grange will start the British Bulldog team again.
This is not the reason to go back.
I just wanted to see where this road might go.
There is only one house in the forest, so we call it the house in the forest.
An old woman was arranged to live there but I didn\'t know her name and I never saw her.
The house has four windows and a chimney, just like a house painted by a child.
A brick wall as high as mine revolves around it, and the wild bush gets higher.
Our war game in the forest avoided the building.
Not because there are any ghost stories about it.
It\'s just a part of the forest.
But this morning the house looked like crouching down and locked up and no one was still living there.
Also, my bladder is about to crack, which makes you less cautious.
So I urinated on The Frost wall.
When a rusty door opened, I had just finished signing it in wet yellow, screaming, where stood a sour aunt from black --and-white times.
Just standing there staring at me. My pee ran dry. “God! Sorry!
\"I pulled my fly and looked forward to a loud noise.
Any child she found peeing on our fence and feeding his body to the compost box, and Mom was alive and kicking. Including me.
\"I don\'t know anyone is alive. . . here.
Aunt sour continued to look at me.
My underwear got dirty with a urine drop.
\"My brother and I were born in this House,\" she concluded . \".
Her throat is drooping like a lizard.
\"We don\'t want to move. ”“Oh . . .
\"I\'m still not sure if she will fire on me. “Good.
\"How noisy Are you young people! ”“Sorry.
\"It was very careless of you to wake my brother up.
My mouth is glued.
\"It\'s not that I made all the noise. Honestly.
\"A few days \"-
Aunt sour never blinks
\"When my brother fell in love with the children.
But on such a day, my God, you gave him anger.
\"Like I said, I\'m sorry.
\"You\'ll be more upset,\" she said, looking disgusted, \"If my brother had an issue with you.
\"Quiet things are too noisy to hear loud things. “Is he . . . uh, around? Now?
I mean, your brother?
\"Just when he left the room. ”“Is he ill?
She acted as if she hadn\'t heard me.
\"I have to go home now.
\"You will be more sad\"
She did what the old spitti jompu did to not dribble.
\"When the ice breaks. ”“The ice? On the lake?
It is as strong as anything.
\"That\'s what you always say.
Said Ralph Braden. ”“Who’s he? ”“Ralph Bredon.
Son of the Butcher
\"It doesn\'t feel good at all.
\"I have to go home now.
Lunch in 9 Kingfisher Meadows, Black Swan Green, Worcester, wasFindus hamn\'n cheese Crispy Pancakes
Cut fries and bean sprouts in the oven.
Bean sprouts are the taste of fresh vomit, but mom said I have to eat five without having to do anything or dance for it, otherwise the pudding will not have the Angel Joy of butter
Mom said she wouldn\'t let the table be used as a place for \"teenage discontent.
Before Christmas, I asked \"teen discontent\" about the taste of something that didn\'t like sproutshas.
My mother warned me not to be a primary school student again.
I should have shut up, but I pointed out that dad never let her eat melons. She hates it)
Mom never let dad eat garlic. which he hates).
She sent me to my room.
When Dad came back, I got a lecture on arrogance.
No pocket money that week.
So anyway, this lunch time, I cut the bean sprouts into small pieces and put ketchup on them. “Dad? ”“Jason?
\"What will happen to your body if you drown?
Julia turned her eyes like Jesus on the cross.
\"A bit of a sick topic at the table.
Dad chewed one of his crispy pancakes.
\"What are you asking?
\"It\'s better not to mention frozen --up pond.
\"Well, in this book, the two brothers Hal and Roger Hunt are being chased by a bad guy in trouble.
Dad raised his hand and said enough!
\"Well, in my opinion, sir.
It was eaten by fish. Picked clean.
\"Do they have piranha in the Arctic ? \"
\"Once the fish is soft enough, it will eat anything.
Please note that if he falls into the Thames, his body will be washed soon.
The Thames always gave up its death, and the Thames also gave up.
\"My wrong direction has been completed.
\"For example, if he fell into the ice, he fell into Arak?
So what will he do?
Will he stay? . . deepfrozen?
\"Mom, when we eat,\" said Julia Mayard, \"things are weird.
Mom rolled up her napkin.
\"Lorenzo Hussain Terry\'s tile collection is new, Michael. ” (
I laughed at a sister\'s abortion. )“Michael? ”“Yes, Helena?
\"I think we can go to Lorenzo husserry\'s showroom on our way to Worcester. New tiles.
They are exquisite.
\"There is no doubt that the price of Lorenzo hussajry is reasonable, can it be matched?
\"We have workers coming in anyway, so why not work well?
The kitchen is getting more and more awkward. ”“Helena, why—
Julia sometimes saw an argument even before mom and dad.
\"Can I come down now? ”“Darling.
Mom looks very hurt.
\"This is the joy of the cream butter Angel.
\"It\'s delicious, but can I have mine tonight ? \"
I\'m going back to Robert Perrin, the enlightened Whig.
It ruined my appetite anyway.
I retorted: \"Stealing Cadbury\'s rose with Kate alfrik, what ruined your appetite.
\"So, where\'s Terry\'s Chocolate Orange?
\"Julia,\" sighed mom, \"I really hope you don\'t call Jason that way.
You only have one brother.
\"One is too much,\" Julia said, and she got up.
What did dad think?
\"Has anyone of you ever been in my office? ”“Not me, Dad.
Julia lingered at the door, covered with blood.
\"It must be my honest, charming and obedient younger brother and sister.
How did he know?
\"This is a simple enough question.
Dad has solid evidence.
The only adult I know who can bluff is Mr.
Nixon, our principal. The pencil!
When Dean Moran rang the bell, I must have left my pencil in the pencil sharpener. Damn Moron.
\"To be honest, your phone rang for four or five minutes, so-
Dad doesn\'t care.
\"What\'s the rule in my office?
\"But I thought it might be an emergency, so I picked it up and then there was \"--
Hangman stopped \"someone\"
\"One person at the other end,-”“I believe”—
Dad\'s palm said stop! —
\"I just asked you a question. ”“Yes, but—
\"What question did I just ask you?
\"What are the rules for not entering my office? ’ ”“So I did.
\"Dad is sometimes a pair of scissors.
\"Why don\'t you answer this question?
Then Julia made a strange move. “That’s funny.
\"I didn\'t see anyone laughing.
\"No, dad, on the Boxing Day, when you and Mom took things to Worcester, the phone in your office rang.
To be honest, it lasted a long time.
I can\'t concentrate on reviewing.
The more I tell myself that it\'s not a desperate ambulance or something, the more likely it looks.
In the end, it made me crazy.
I have no choice.
I said \"hello\" but the person at the other end said nothing.
So I hung up in case it was abnormal.
Dad has been quiet, but the danger is not over.
\"This is like me,\" I said boldly.
\"But I didn\'t hang up directly because I thought they might not be able to hear me.
Is there a baby in the background, Julia?
\"Well, you two, private enough --eye biz.
If a clown makes a nasty call, then I don\'t want you both to answer anyway.
If this happens again, just unplug the socket. Understand?
Mom just sat there.
It feels bad at all.
Dad said, \"Did you hear that?
Like a brick through a window.
Julian and I jumped. “Yes Dad.
\"Mom, dad and I ate our butter angel without saying a word.
I dare not even look at my parents.
I can\'t ask to come down early because I already used that card.
The reason why I am in the kennel is very clear, but God knows why mom and dad will give each other silent treatment.
After the last spoonful of Angel Delight, Dad said, \"lovely, Helena, thank you.
Jason and I went to do the laundry, didn\'t we, Jason?
Mom just did this.
Voice, go upstairs.
Dad washed it. what\'s humming-song.
I put the dirty dishes in the hatch and went into the kitchen to dry.
I should have shut up, but I think I can make this day safe and normal if I say it right. “Do you get”—
Hanman likes it because the word brings sadness to me.
\"Dad, Nightingale, January?
I may have heard this morning. In the woods. \"Daddy, briello-padding a pan.
\"How should I know? ”I pushed on.
Dad usually likes to talk about nature and things.
\"But the bird in Grandpa\'s hospice center.
You said it was a Nightingale. ”“Huh.
I think you remember.
Dad stared at the back lawn on the Summer Palace ice Post.
Then Dad made that sound, just like he did in the world\'s most tragic men\'s game in 1982.
\"Jason, focus first before you drop a pair of glasses.
He turned on Radio 2 to listen to the weather forecast and then started cutting off the 1981 highway with scissors.
Dad bought the updated code on the day the 1982 Highway Code was released, and he said that if the old code was not destroyed, it could lead to an accident.
Tonight, temperatures on most of Britain\'s islands will drop below zero.
Drivers in Scotland and the North should be careful about the black ice on the road, and there should be a large area of frozen fog in the central region.
I played life games in my room, but it\'s not fun to be two players at the same time.
Julia\'s friend Kate Avery called on Julia to study together.
But they are just saying who will go out with who in the sixth form and play the police singles.
My billion problems are just as constant as the bodies in the flooded cities.
Mom and Dad at lunch.
The Han man colonial alphabet.
At this rate, I will have to learn sign language.
Gary Drake and Rose Wilcox
They were never my best friends, but today they joined together against me.
Neil Bross is also involved.
Finally, the acid aunt in the forest worried me a lot. How come?
Hopefully there\'s a crack that can slip through and leave all this behind.
I\'m 13 next week, but 13 looks a lot worse than 12.
From where I am now, Julia Moyes has been talking about the epic of eighteen but eighteen.
There was no formal bedtime, twice as much as my pocket money, and when Julia was eighteen, she and her thousands of friends went to the Tanya nightclub in Worcester.
Tanya has the only xenon disco laser in Europe!
How about Ace?
Dad drove alone to the Kingfisher grass.
Mom must still be in her room.
She has been there more and more recently.
To cheer myself up, I put on my grandfather\'s Omega.
On Boxing Day, Dad called me to his office and said he got something from my grandfather that was very important to giveme.
Dad kept it until I was mature enough to take care of it myself. It was a watch.
Omega seahorse Deville.
In 1949, grandpa bought it in a port called Aden with a real living Arab.
Aden was once British in alabia.
He wore it every day in his life, and even his mother died.
This fact makes Omega more special and not terrible.
Omega\'s face is silver, wide to 50 p, but thin to the brave.
Dad said seriously: \"This is the logo of a good watch, it is very thin.
These days, teenagers don\'t like to tie these plastic bathtubs to their wrists and sway around them.
\"Where I hide Omega, my Omega is a work of genius, second only to oxoxoxo tin under the loose floor.
I dug out a crappy thing with a Stanley knife.
The book for the boy is called carpentry.
The boys are on my shelf, between the real books.
Julia used to spy in my room, but she never found this hiding place.
I would know because I kept the balance of 1 penny coins on the back of it.
Also, if Julia found it, she definitely copied my ace idea.
I checked the fake thorns on her shelf, no.
I heard an unfamiliar car outside. A sky-
Blue Volkswagen Jetta crawled on the side of the road as if its driver was looking for a house number.
At our endde-
The driver, a woman, did three.
After a turn, I stopped the car and drove to the Kingfisher grass.
If it\'s on Police 999, I should remember the number plate.
Grandpa is the last grandfather to die, and the only grandfather I have a memory. Not many.
Follow his garden path and lay the road for my Corgi car.
See Thunderbirds in Grange\'s bungalowover-
Beach and drinks called Dandelion and cattle bur.
I wrap the stopped Omega around and set the time to a small part after 3.
The unborn twins muttered to the lake.
The stump of an elm tree blocks a bottleneck through the woods.
The sitting on the stump was crushed.
Squich\'s real name is Mervyn Hill, but we\'re doing it for P. E.
He pulled his pants down and we saw him in a diaper.
He is about nine years old.
Grant Birch began the nickname, and it has been several years since he was called silent.
Changing your eyeballs is easier than changing your nickname.
So anyway, Squelch stroked some furry moon gray stuff on his elbow.
\"Guardian of the discoverer, loser weepers.
\"Okay, Squelch.
So what do you have?
Squelch\'s teeth were stained. “Ain’t showin’! ”“Go on.
You can show us.
\"Clever . \" Squelch muttered. ”“A Kit Kat?
A piece of chocolate?
\"Squelch showed me the head of a sleeping kitten. “Kitty cat!
Elimination, elimination. ”“Wow. A cat.
Where did you find her? ”“By the lake.
At dawn, before others reach the lake.
I hid when we were British bulldog.
Hide her in a box.
\"Why don\'t you show it to anyone?
\"Burch, Swinyard, Redmarley, and these asshole of them have dug heraway away, and that\'s why!
Discoverer breeder, loser. I hided her.
I\'m back now.
\"You never know Squelch.
\"She\'s quiet, isn\'t she?
Squelch just touched her.
\"Can I hold her, Melph?
\"If you don\'t say a word to anyone\"
A pair of eyes staring at me
\"You can touch her.
But take off the gloves. They’re nobbly.
So I took off the goalkeeper\'s gloves and reached out to touch the kitten.
Squelch threw the kitten at me.
\"It\'s yours now!
I suddenly caught the kitten. “Yours!
Squelch ran back to the village with a smile. “Yours!
\"The kitten is as cold and stiff as a pack of meat in the refrigerator.
I didn\'t realize it was dead until now. I dropped it. It thudded.
Cried Squelch, and his voice disappeared, \"Guardian!
\"I used two sticks to lift the kitten into a pile of intense snow lotus.
Still so dignified.
I died in the frost last night.
One day, the dead will tell you what you will be like.
I suspect that no one will be on the frozen lake and no soul.
Superman II was shown on TV.
About two years ago, on Neil Bross\'s birthday, I saw the movie at the Marvin cinema.
It\'s not bad, but it\'s not worth sacrificing my own private ice lake.
Clark Kent gave up his power just to have sexual contact with Lois Lane in a sparkling bed.
Who would do such a stupid exchange?
Can you fly?
Turning nuclear missiles into space?
Return time by rotating the earth in reverse?
Sex can\'t be so good.
I sat on the empty bench and ate a piece of Jamaican gingerbread and walked out on the ice.
No other kids, I didn\'t fall down at a time.
I circled around and there was a stone at the end of a rope.
The outstretched tree tried to touch my head with a finger. Rooks craw . . . craw . . .
Just like the old people who forgot why they went upstairs.
A little trance.
The afternoon has passed and the sky is turning to outer space when I notice another child on the lake.
The boy glided at my speed, along my track, but always stayed on the other side of the lake.
So if I\'m 12, he\'s six.
By the time I got to eleven, he was five years old.
The first thing I thought about was that he was a kid from the village, and it was just a mess.
I even thought he might be Nick Yew because he was a little short and fat.
But the strange thing is that if I looked directly at the child for a while, the dark space swallowed him up.
I thought he was home a few times ago.
But he will come back after the other half of the lake.
On the edge of my vision.
Once I slid across the lake to intercept him, but he disappeared before I got to the island in the middle.
He came back as I continued around the pond.
Go home, the nervous mag worm in my body is urging.
What if he\'s a ghost?
My unborn twins can\'t stand mag worms.
What if he\'s a ghost? “Nick? ” I called out.
My voice sounded indoors. “Nick Yew?
The child continued skating.
I shouted, \"Ralph Braden?
It took the whole track for his answer to find me. Butcher’s boy.
If the doctor told me that the child opposite was my imagination and the voice was just what I thought, I wouldn\'t argue.
If Julia had told me that I was convincing myself that Ralph Braden was there and made myself feel more special than I was, I wouldn\'t have argued.
If a mystic tells me that in a particular place, a particular moment can act as an antenna that receives traces of blurred people, I will not argue. \"What is it like? ” I called out. “Isn’t it cold?
The answer is another track to get to me.
You are used to the cold.
Kids who have drowned in the Lake these years will mind if I break into their roof?
Do they want the new kids to fail? For company?
Do they envy the living? Even me?
I shouted, \"Can you show me?
Show me what it looks like?
The moon is cruising in the lake at night.
We slipped a track. The shadow-
The kid was still there, like me, squatting while he was skiing.
We slipped another track.
An owl or something floats across the other side of the lake. “Hey? ” I called out.
\"Did you hear that?
I want to know what it is-
The ICE gave my feet a shot.
For a moment, I was sitting in the air at an unlikely height.
Bruce Lee is so tall in karate.
I know it won\'t be a soft landing, but I didn\'t think how painful it would be to have a grand slam.
The cracks from my ankle to my chin to my knuckles are broken, just like the Ice Cube pinging into the warm squash.
No, bigger than ice.
A mirror falling from the height of the Sky Lab.
Where it hits the Earth, it hits the dagger, the Thorns and the invisible debris, that\'s my ankle.
I rotated to a shudder place by the lake.
One thing I can do is lie there and enjoy that supernatural pain.
Even a needle in a haystack will sobs.
\"Damn guy,\" I gasped my tears.
\"Damn guy!
\"Through hard trees, I can hear the sound of the main road, but I can\'t go that far.
I wanted to get up, but I was thrown down by my ass and held back with new pain. I couldn’tmove.
I will die of pneumonia if I stay where I am.
I don\'t know what to do.
\"You,\" sighed aunt sour.
\"We suspect you will come back soon. ”“I hurt”—
My voice is completely bent.
\"I hurt my ankle. ”“So I see.
\"It\'s hard for me. ”“I daresay.
\"Can I call my dad to pick me up?
\"We don\'t like the phone.
\"Can you go for help ? \"Please?
\"We have never left our house. Not at night. Not here. ”“Please.
The underwater pain is as deafening as an electric guitar. “I can’twalk.
\"I know a lot about bones and joints.
You better come in.
It\'s colder inside than outside.
The bolt behind me slid home, a lock head.
\"Go down,\" said aunt sour. \"go to the living room.
I will return to normal once I have your treatment ready.
But keep quiet no matter what you do.
You will be very sorry if you wake my brother up. ”“All right . . .
I took a look.
\"Where is your living room?
\"But the darkness has been shuffled by itself, and aunt sour has gone.
At the end of the corridor was a muddy light, so I limped over.
God knows how I took the winding path from the frozen lake.
But all I have to do is come here.
I take the stairs.
Enough depressing moonlight to fall on the wall, let me take an old picture hanging on the wall.
A submarine in the Arctic. lookingport.
The crew stood on the deck and saluted. I walked on.
The blade of lightning is never closer.
The living room is a little bigger than a big wardrobe and is full of museum stuff.
An empty parrot cage, a sledgehammer, a towering dresser, and a sickle. Junk, too.
A curved bicycle wheel and a football boot were blocked by silt.
A pair of ancient skates hanging on the cloakrack.
There is nothing modern. No fire.
There is no electrical appliance other than a bare brown bulb.
Hairy plants grow bleached roots from small pots.
It\'s cold!
The sofa is tilted under me and sssssssed.
The other door was made of beads on the rope.
I tried to find a position that hurt my ankle less, but none.
I think time will pass quickly.
Aunt sour held a porcelain bowl in one hand and a cloudy glass in the other.
\"Take off your socks.
My ankle is swollen and soft.
Aunt sour held my calf on a stool and knelt next to it.
Her clothes rustled.
There is no sound other than blood in the ear and jagged breathing.
Then she put her hand into the bowl and started applying a bready goo to my ankle.
My ankle shuddered.
\"This is plaster.
She caught my heart.
\"Pull out the swelling.
\"The plaster is a little itchy, but the pain is too strong. I am too strong.
The sour aunt wiped the sticky one on it until it was used up, and my foot ank was completely cl open.
She handed me the cloudy glass. “Drinkthis.
\"It smells like. . . marzipan.
\"This is for drinking. Not smelling.
\"But what is this?
\"It will help to eliminate the pain.
Her expression told me that I had no real choice.
I got the liquid swi back like you did magnesium milk. It was syrupy-
Very thick, but not very tasty.
I asked, \"Did your brother fall asleep upstairs?
\"Ralph, where else will he be? Shush now.
I told her, \"My name is not Ralph,\" but she acted as if she hadn\'t heard it.
I have made great efforts and now I have stopped moving forward.
I can no longer resist the cold.
Interestingly, as soon as I gave in, a lovely sleepy pulled me down.
I imagine mom, dad and Julia sitting at home watching Paul Daniels\'s magic show, but their faces melted like a reflection on the back of the spoon.
The cold woke me up.
I don\'t know where, who or when I am.
I feel bitten and I can see my breath.
A porcelain bowl sat on the footrest and my ankle was crushed by something hard and soft.
Then I remembered everything and sat up.
The pain on my feet has disappeared, but my head feels uncomfortable like a crow flies in and can\'t go out.
I wiped the plaster on my feet with a snobbish handkerchief.
At first my ankle was spinning very well and cured like magic.
I put on my socks and coach and stood up and tested my weight.
There was a slight sting but it was just because I was looking for it.
I shouted through the door of the Pearl: \"Hello? \"There is no answer.
I went through the crackling beads in the crack and went into a small kitchen with a stone sink and a huge oven.
The child is big enough to climb in.
Its door was open, but it was dark inside, like the broken grave under the tomb of St. Gabriel.
I want to thank aunt sour for fixing my ankle.
The unborn twins warned to make sure the back door is open. It didn’t.
No frost.
Window fan.
Its grip and hinge have long been painted and at least a chisel is needed to convince it to open.
I was wondering when it was, squinting at my grandfather\'s Omega because the kitchenette was too dark to see.
Suppose it\'s later in the evening?
After I go back, my tea will be waiting under a Pyrex dish.
If I don\'t come back for tea in time, mom and dad will go crazy.
Or is it midnight?
Have the police been warned? Jesus.
Or what if I slept all day until the next night?
Today\'s Malvern directory and Midland have shown my school photos and appealed the witnesses. Jesus.
Squelch will report that I went to the frozen lake.
Now, fromon may be looking for me there.
This is a nightmare.
No, it\'s worse than that.
Back in the living room, I looked at Grandpa\'s somega and found out there was no time left.
My voice sobbed, \"No.
\"The glass face, the hour card and the minute card are all missing, leaving only a bent second-hand card.
This must be the case when I fall on the ice.
The boxes were separated and half of the internal organs spilled.
Grandpa\'s Omega has never had a problem in 40 years.
I killed it in less than two weeks.
I was so scared that I staggered up the corridor and climbed up the twisted stairs, \"Hello?
In the Ice Age, silence is like night. “I have to go!
\"Fear that Omega will worry about being in this House, but I still dare not make a loud noise if I wake my brother up.
\"I have to go home now,\" I cried loudly. No reply.
I decided to walk from the front door.
I will come back during the day to thank her.
The bolts slide easily, but the old ones
Style lock is another thing.
It can\'t open without a key. That was that.
I had to go upstairs and wake old Beatty up to get her key, it was just a hard word if she got angry.
What must be done for the catastrophic of the broken watch.
God knows what it is, but I can\'t do it in the house in the forest.
The stairs are steeper.
Soon I had to grab the stairs above me with my hands or I would fall.
No one can guess how the sour aunt went up and down in that big rookish dress.
Finally, I dragged myself to a small platform with two doors.
A flashing window.
A door must be Aunt Sour\'s room.
The other must be brother\'s.
There is a power supply on the left that is not available on the right, so I buckled the iron door on the left door.
It draws warmth from my hand, my arm, my blood. Scrit-scrat. I froze. Scrit-scrat.
Dead beetle?
The mouse in the attic?
Is the water pipe frozen?
Which room is graffiti-
Where does Scrat come from?
When I turned the iron door handle, it made a curl squeak.
The powdery moonlight lit the attic room through snowflakes --lace curtain.
I guess right
Aunt sour lay under the quilt, and her false teeth were placed in a jar by the bed, still the Duchess of marble on the tomb of the church.
I shuffle on the floor and I get nervous at the thought of waking her up.
What if she forgets who I am and thinks I will come and murder her and scream for help and stroke?
Her hair was sprinkled on her folded face like a duckweed.
Every ten to twenty beats there is a breath slipping through her mouth.
Only this proves that she is as flesh and blood as I am.
\"Can you hear me?
\"No, I have to shake her up.
My hand is half on her shoulder
Deep in her heart, scrat noise starts again. Not a snore. A death rattle.
Go to another bedroom.
Wake her brother.
She needs an ambulance. No.
Hit your way out.
Run to Isaac Pai of The Black Swan for help. No.
They ask you why you\'re in the woods. What’d you say?
You don\'t even know the name of this woman. It’s too late.
She\'s dying now. I’mcertain. The scrit-
Scrat opened the roll.
Shout out, waspier, daggerier.
Her trachea swelled when her soul squeezed out of her heart. Her worn-
Eyes are as wide as dolls, black, glass, shocked.
A snowstorm rushed out of her black mouth.
There is a silent roar here.
Not anywhere.
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