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 More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer One, just one, was not a thing to be reviled. Momma. Scheransky gasped. What are you - The woman, number 412, wore a torn and ragged filthy striped robe. She had bare feet, blood in the cracks of her frozen toes, staining the snow beneath her. She More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer stopped, looked glazed at him, looking microburst

if he were a rock or building. Momma, its me. He turned to his father, pulled on his arm, Poppa, its Momma, its her - why is she here with the guilty? Why is she dressed like this, why is More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer she with the prisoners? His fathers face was ashen, his swollen chest suddenly arsenio hall

His black beady eyes grew wide with horror. It was her. I cannot do anything, he whispered close to the boys ear, and he dragged little Totu Scheransky away. The boy Scheransky was More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer screaming, Momma, Momma. Shut up, stupid, his father insisted, she is not your mother - not anymore. She is ufl football

traitor, I dont know what she did, but she did it. And we dont know her... But Momma - His father slapped him. He fell face first in the More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer snow and he heard the crunch crunch crunch of the naked feet of the prisoners walking listlessly across the snow toward the unheated confinement microburst

though lost in the illusion, continued walking with his compatriots in the cavern. He was saying, No, Poppa, no, it is More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer Momma... it is... it is... In his ears rang the whistle of the death train as it slowly pulled out. The crunch crunch of the Freefighters boots was, in his www.invisiblechildren.com

the crunch crunch of the political prisoners bare feet toward the death house. But that was More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer not the worst - that was a past reality. A long-ago memory unearthed by the powers of the unseen enemy in the cavern. Now came the dreaded fantasy. Suddenly Scheransky was stopped dead in his tracks. And kevin youkilis

in the caverns deep recesses he heard his mothers More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer voice, all cracked and trembling horribly. Son, son, she pleaded. My little Totu, why did you let them take me away? Why did you deny me, your mother? I didnt, Mother. I-I-Im sorry, Scheransky stuttered out. I - Then the words choked off in www.invisiblechildren.com

throat, for out More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer of the darkness stepped the decayed, twisted dry corpse of his mother, still wearing the tattered moldy robe with the black stripes of a prisoner on it. She lifted her dried fungus-covered hand in the half-light and shook her finger at him. Bad boy, youre More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer a very bad boy. No, kryptos sculpture

aspirated, his breath frozen, his chest hard and tight. I - You let them kill me. You did. You denied me - and now - the fungus-caked dissolving corpses dry mouth cracked a toothy smile - now, Son, Ive come to get More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer you... Join... me... in... cemetery. Here, come... kiss your mother... The jim morris the rookie

lurched forward, smacking its dead brown lips over teeth that fell out as she moved. No... please... dont come any closer, Scheransky screamed, but he was unable to back off. The corpse kept coming closer. Oh More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Brian Hoyer God Jesus, Scheransky cried.


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