Susan's Place Transgender Resources

I'm back and here is one of my favorite writing games to play.

rules
1. write once sentence per post
2. bold your sentence when adding on

I'll start.

  It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders.

Posted on: April 21, 2008, 07:30:39 AM

---

  It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I really don't know how all this weight got on these shoulders.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders.
I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf.

tink :icon_chick:

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      'Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?' the old man asked.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      'Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?' the old man asked.
As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      'Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?' the old man asked. As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odour. 'It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years.'

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      'Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?' the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  'It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years.'  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape.

Quote from: Kristi on April 22, 2008, 10:15:45 PM
It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      'Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?' the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  'It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years.' That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      'Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?' the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  'It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years.' That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape.Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      'Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?' the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  'It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years.' That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape.Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
   'Friend of yours?' I asked.

     It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
     "Friend of yours?" I asked. 
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."

 It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
     "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
     "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So, what's in your sack?'

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
     "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
from the sack, i pull out ten boxes of juicy juice

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
     "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
from the sack, i pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.

tink :icon_chick:


P.S.  LOL  ;D

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
     "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
     "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
     "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching

          It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.
   

          It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"

          It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
    "Eh," I said, scratching my head as I tried to figure out what he meant.

  It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.

tink :icon_chick:

     It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place.

 It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.

 It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.
  "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.
  "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".

WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair. 
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair. 
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conversation back to it original direction.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly."

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone."

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.

At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"

LLL&R

Maebh

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.

At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'"

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.

At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?" 

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.

At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
    "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.

At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
     "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
     "Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinky finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.

At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
"Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
"Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinky finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
I started to laugh incontrolly as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"

LLL&R

Maebh

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.

At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
"Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
"Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinky finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
I started to laugh incontrolly as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"
"I think I'm going to go find that bridge."

     It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.
     At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
     "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
     "Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinky finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
     I started to laugh uncontrollably as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"
     "I think I'm going to go find that bridge."  So I mustered up my last bit of energy, and at the top of my lungs shouted into the fog, "Can anyone help me find a bridge?"

     It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.
     At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
     "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
     "Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinky finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
     I started to laugh uncontrollably as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"
     "I think I'm going to go find that bridge."  So I mustered up my last bit of energy, and at the top of my lungs shouted into the fog, "had Can anyone help me find a bridge?"
Now it was all so clear. I knew what I to do. With the proper help and support like the one I had met at Susan's, I'll find and cross the bridge that span the rift between my troubled past and the promises of my future as a free and fullfilled human been. At last I could toss my burden. Liberated from fear and confusion, I could confidently get on my journey with a smile on my face, a grateful song in my heart and a spring in my step.

LL&R

Maebh

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.
     At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
     "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
     "Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinky finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
     I started to laugh uncontrollably as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"
     "I think I'm going to go find that bridge."  So I mustered up my last bit of energy, and at the top of my lungs shouted into the fog, "Can anyone help me find a bridge?"
Now it was all so clear. I knew what I to do. With the proper help and support like the one I had met at Susan's, I'll find and cross the bridge that span the rift between my troubled past and the promises of my future as a free and fullfilled human been. At last I could toss my burden. Liberated from fear and confusion, I could confidently get on my journey with a smile on my face, a grateful song in my heart and a spring in my step.
"I have a plan!" I shout exhultantly, the word 'plan' echoing thrice. And so I start my journey.  To find a bridge, I first needed a river.  

It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.
     At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
     "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
     "Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinky finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
     I started to laugh uncontrollably as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"
     "I think I'm going to go find that bridge."  So I mustered up my last bit of energy, and at the top of my lungs shouted into the fog, "Can anyone help me find a bridge?"
Now it was all so clear. I knew what I to do. With the proper help and support like the one I had met at Susan's, I'll find and cross the bridge that span the rift between my troubled past and the promises of my future as a free and fullfilled human been. At last I could toss my burden. Liberated from fear and confusion, I could confidently get on my journey with a smile on my face, a grateful song in my heart and a spring in my step.
"I have a plan!" I shout exhultantly, the word 'plan' echoing thrice. And so I start my journey.  To find a bridge, I first needed a river.
As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?". Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.  

LL&R

Maebh

     It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.   Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.
     At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
     "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
     "Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinky finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
     I started to laugh uncontrollably as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"
     "I think I'm going to go find that bridge."  So I mustered up my last bit of energy, and at the top of my lungs shouted into the fog, "Can anyone help me find a bridge?"
Now it was all so clear. I knew what I to do. With the proper help and support like the one I had met at Susan's, I'll find and cross the bridge that span the rift between my troubled past and the promises of my future as a free and fulfilled human been. At last I could toss my burden. Liberated from fear and confusion, I could confidently get on my journey with a smile on my face, a grateful song in my heart and a spring in my step.  "I have a plan!" I shout exultantly, the word 'plan' echoing thrice. And so I start my journey.  To find a bridge, I first needed a river.
     As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
    "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"

     It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.   Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.
     At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
     "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
     "Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinky finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
     I started to laugh uncontrollably as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"
     "I think I'm going to go find that bridge."  So I mustered up my last bit of energy, and at the top of my lungs shouted into the fog, "Can anyone help me find a bridge?"
Now it was all so clear. I knew what I to do. With the proper help and support like the one I had met at Susan's, I'll find and cross the bridge that span the rift between my troubled past and the promises of my future as a free and fulfilled human been. At last I could toss my burden. Liberated from fear and confusion, I could confidently get on my journey with a smile on my face, a grateful song in my heart and a spring in my step.  "I have a plan!" I shout exultantly, the word 'plan' echoing thrice. And so I start my journey.  To find a bridge, I first needed a river.
     As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
"No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
"Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Whiping of the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
"It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles"
"Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and trew it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.

Maebh

LLL&R

Insert Quote
     It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.   Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.
     At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
     "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
     "Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinky finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
     I started to laugh uncontrollably as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"
     "I think I'm going to go find that bridge."  So I mustered up my last bit of energy, and at the top of my lungs shouted into the fog, "Can anyone help me find a bridge?"
Now it was all so clear. I knew what I to do. With the proper help and support like the one I had met at Susan's, I'll find and cross the bridge that span the rift between my troubled past and the promises of my future as a free and fulfilled human been. At last I could toss my burden. Liberated from fear and confusion, I could confidently get on my journey with a smile on my face, a grateful song in my heart and a spring in my step.  "I have a plan!" I shout exultantly, the word 'plan' echoing thrice. And so I start my journey.  To find a bridge, I first needed a river.
     As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
"No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
"Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Whiping of the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
"It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles"
"Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and trew it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.

     It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.   Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicyfruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.
     At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
     "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
     "Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinky finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
     I started to laugh uncontrollably as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"
     "I think I'm going to go find that bridge."  So I mustered up my last bit of energy, and at the top of my lungs shouted into the fog, "Can anyone help me find a bridge?"
Now it was all so clear. I knew what I to do. With the proper help and support like the one I had met at Susan's, I'll find and cross the bridge that span the rift between my troubled past and the promises of my future as a free and fulfilled human been. At last I could toss my burden. Liberated from fear and confusion, I could confidently get on my journey with a smile on my face, a grateful song in my heart and a spring in my step.  "I have a plan!" I shout exultantly, the word 'plan' echoing thrice. And so I start my journey.  To find a bridge, I first needed a river.
     As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
"No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
"Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Whiping of the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
"It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles"
"Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and trew it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.
My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

LL&R

Maebh

     It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.   Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicy fruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.
     At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
     "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
     "Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinkly finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
     I started to laugh uncontrollably as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"
     "I think I'm going to go find that bridge."  So I mustered up my last bit of energy, and at the top of my lungs shouted into the fog, "Can anyone help me find a bridge?"
Now it was all so clear. I knew what I to do. With the proper help and support like the one I had met at Susan's, I'll find and cross the bridge that span the rift between my troubled past and the promises of my future as a free and fulfilled human been. At last I could toss my burden. Liberated from fear and confusion, I could confidently get on my journey with a smile on my face, a grateful song in my heart and a spring in my step.  "I have a plan!" I shout exultantly, the word 'plan' echoing thrice. And so I start my journey.  To find a bridge, I first needed a river.
     As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
"No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
"Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Whipping of the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
"It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles"
"Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.
My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.

   It has been a long, difficult journey with this heavy weight on my shoulders. I'm looking for a bridge to toss it over. This town is full of bridges, but so far I haven't found one. I have been looking for hours, it seems to me, but I must have been looking in all the wrong places.   Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.  It was a disfigured man wearing a purple cape and a red scarf. He had a hook nose and dead eyes and he was carrying more weights then I was.  He was struggling with an enormous bag slung over his shoulder, almost tripping as his huge feet plodded along the dusty road.
      "Don't know where I could find a bridge do yer?" the old man asked.  As he shuffled his bag to the opposite shoulder, I got a whiff of a sickeningly sweet odor.  "It's just that I've been looking for a place to drop this for years."  That was when I realized that the bag was shaking, as if something inside was trying to escape. Suddenly the bag ripped open and a figure approximately my size and shape fell on to the cold, wet concrete road.
'Oh pardon me' he said as he stooped to gather up his burden - the body of a woman. The woman was covered in honey, she seemed to twitch but not be alive.
    "Friend of yours?" I asked.
     "She may be sweet," the old curmudgeon spat, "But I've never thought of her as a friend."
     "She looks...familiar."
The old man promptly changed the subject. 'Yeah well. So what's in your sack?'
From the sack,  I pull out ten boxes of juicy juice, and the old man went ballistic.  He started to lick his fingers and part of his arm.   Then he grabbed one of the juice boxes and began to pour it on the head of the burden woman.
     "That's right, drown in the sweetness," the old man said with a cackle.
    "This guy is just plain weird or something," I thought with both my right eyebrow and right corner of my mouth twitching.
    "I s'pose you find me odd," the man said.  "But don't you see how our burdens are really the same?"
"Take a look closer, don't you remind her anything?" he said to me.
    "What the heck," I thought, "but that can't be? My parents told me that I was an only child? Could she be my long and forgotten twin?"  "No, she doesn't remind me of anyone", I screamed.  "What are you trying to do? make fun of me?", I added.
     That made me remember why I was looking for the bridge in the first place. Not that it mattered any more now the man had emptied the juicy fruit cartons over my dead twin, i'm glad I never told him that they were a day out of date.
    In a fit of uncontrollable raged, whether it was from finding out I was a twin or maybe finding out she was dead or maybe both, with all of my strength, I threw the guy on to the nearest light post. His purple cape tasted of ages old oatmeal; I know because it hit me in the face as I threw him.
  Since I was not sure if my unbearably sweet, dual-identity burden was really gone, dead, or just out of date, I whipped out my phone and placed a call to the one person who would know for sure.   "Mum? Mum, now listen.... I've got to ask you a question...but...sit down first o.k?.... cause it might come as a bit of a shock.....".
    WHAM! Purple cape man ripped the light post I threw him against out of the ground and swung at me, missing by a hair.
    "What was that dreadful noise in the background?" Mum asked with a terrified, knowing tone to her voice.
"Oh, that? It's nothing.  Just purple cape man trying to kill me after I threw him in to the light post.  But I digress.  Back to the question at hand..." I shuffle my feet nervously as I steer the conver, "Did I ever had a twin, mom?"
     There was a long silence at the other end of the line before she answered, "Well, not a twin, exactly. More like a female clone.
     At these words a cold shiver went down my spine. Full of dread, I asked in a faltering voice: "What do you mean exactly by female clone?"  "Well actually," she replied, "There were two, a male and a female, but the male had a filthy mouth and your father threw him off a cliff, so he was arrested for 'making an obscene clone fall.'" "What about the female one?," I asked with bated breath, "What happened to her?"
     "Well, she can only survive in kept in sweet stuff."
     "Oh, rrrriiiight", I said.  I pressed my twinkly finger against my mouth, my mind began racing wildly,  suddenly my legs turned to jelly as I collapsed in a heap.Now it all started to make sense:  the sticky stuff, the duality, the pad bun,  and the rest.
     I started to laugh uncontrollably as an echo in my head kept repeating again and again: " There is your mission sweety! If you decide to take it on, your life might have some meaning after all. So what will you do about it?"
     "I think I'm going to go find that bridge."  So I mustered up my last bit of energy, and at the top of my lungs shouted into the fog, "Can anyone help me find a bridge?"
Now it was all so clear. I knew what I to do. With the proper help and support like the one I had met at Susan's, I'll find and cross the bridge that span the rift between my troubled past and the promises of my future as a free and fulfilled human been. At last I could toss my burden. Liberated from fear and confusion, I could confidently get on my journey with a smile on my face, a grateful song in my heart and a spring in my step.  "I have a plan!" I shout exultantly, the word 'plan' echoing thrice. And so I start my journey.  To find a bridge, I first needed a river.
     As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.

(see previous posts for beginning)  
 As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away.

smart idea of having the see previous post for beginning.

Quote from: Kate Alice on May 18, 2008, 10:46:33 PM
(see previous posts for beginning) 

As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away.As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away. 

 As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away. As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away.  The hollow sound of the trucks door latch echoed in the foggy air, then a painful creak pierced the night as the truck door swung open.

 As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away. As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away.  The hollow sound of the trucks door latch echoed in the foggy air, then a painful creak pierced the night as the truck door swung open.  There was a groan as the figure shifted its weight in an attempt to get out of the truck.  One shiny boot-clad foot rested on the metal step under the door.  Then another boot joined the first.  The truck door obscured my view of the figure from the knee upward.

 
Insert Quote
As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away. As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away.  The hollow sound of the trucks door latch echoed in the foggy air, then a painful creak pierced the night as the truck door swung open.  There was a groan as the figure shifted its weight in an attempt to get out of the truck.  One shiny boot-clad foot rested on the metal step under the door.  Then another boot joined the first.  The truck door obscured my view of the figure from the knee upward.
A skinny figure stepped out from behind the door and looked at me Hi I'm Dick,  You look to be in a bit of a bind he said.

 As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away. As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away.  The hollow sound of the trucks door latch echoed in the foggy air, then a painful creak pierced the night as the truck door swung open.  There was a groan as the figure shifted its weight in an attempt to get out of the truck.  One shiny boot-clad foot rested on the metal step under the door.  Then another boot joined the first.  The truck door obscured my view of the figure from the knee upward.
A skinny figure stepped out from behind the door and looked at me Hi I'm Dick,  You look to be in a bit of a bind he said.
Angrily the old man interjected: "The last thing we need now is an interfering good samaritan. Take my advise Dicky Boy... you get back into your rust bucket and scram before I loose my temper!"
Dick let out a mocking laugh. Squaring up to Purple Cape he said: "Well old timer, you nearly have me shaking in my boots there"

 As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away. As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away.  The hollow sound of the trucks door latch echoed in the foggy air, then a painful creak pierced the night as the truck door swung open.  There was a groan as the figure shifted its weight in an attempt to get out of the truck.  One shiny boot-clad foot rested on the metal step under the door.  Then another boot joined the first.  The truck door obscured my view of the figure from the knee upward.
A skinny figure stepped out from behind the door and looked at me Hi I'm Dick,  You look to be in a bit of a bind he said.
Angrily the old man interjected: "The last thing we need now is an interfering good samaritan. Take my advise Dicky Boy... you get back into your rust bucket and scram before I loose my temper!"
Dick let out a mocking laugh. Squaring up to Purple Cape he said: "Well old timer, you nearly have me shaking in my boots there"
Pause.  "From LAUGHTER!"  More mocking laughter is heard from Dick as he pulls our a random pair of sissors and starts cutting out a gingerbread man chain on the bottom of Purple Cape Man's purple cape.

 As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away. As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away.  The hollow sound of the trucks door latch echoed in the foggy air, then a painful creak pierced the night as the truck door swung open.  There was a groan as the figure shifted its weight in an attempt to get out of the truck.  One shiny boot-clad foot rested on the metal step under the door.  Then another boot joined the first.  The truck door obscured my view of the figure from the knee upward.
A skinny figure stepped out from behind the door and looked at me Hi I'm Dick,  You look to be in a bit of a bind he said.
Angrily the old man interjected: "The last thing we need now is an interfering good samaritan. Take my advise Dicky Boy... you get back into your rust bucket and scram before I loose my temper!"
Dick let out a mocking laugh. Squaring up to Purple Cape he said: "Well old timer, you nearly have me shaking in my boots there"
Pause.  "From LAUGHTER!"  More mocking laughter is heard from Dick as he pulls our a random pair of sissors and starts cutting out a gingerbread man chain on the bottom of Purple Cape Man's purple cape.I couldn't help but to let out a giggle as I see Dick bow and say, "wal law."

As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away. As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away.  The hollow sound of the trucks door latch echoed in the foggy air, then a painful creak pierced the night as the truck door swung open.  There was a groan as the figure shifted its weight in an attempt to get out of the truck.  One shiny boot-clad foot rested on the metal step under the door.  Then another boot joined the first.  The truck door obscured my view of the figure from the knee upward.
A skinny figure stepped out from behind the door and looked at me "Hi I'm Dick,  You look to be in a bit of a bind"  he said.
Angrily the old man interjected: "The last thing we need now is an interfering good Samaritan. Take my advise Dicky Boy... you get back into your rust bucket and scram before I loose my temper!"
Dick let out a mocking laugh. Squaring up to Purple Cape he said: "Well old timer, you nearly have me shaking in my boots there"
Pause.  "From LAUGHTER!"  More mocking laughter is heard from Dick as he pulls our a random pair of scissors and starts cutting out a gingerbread man chain on the bottom of Purple Cape Man's purple cape. I couldn't help but to let out a giggle as I see Dick bow and say, "wal law."
"Look here Skinny Get you bloody scissors away from my cape.  And don't be calling me old timer, the name is Rodney. I just cant get any  respect around here."

As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away. As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away.  The hollow sound of the trucks door latch echoed in the foggy air, then a painful creak pierced the night as the truck door swung open.  There was a groan as the figure shifted its weight in an attempt to get out of the truck.  One shiny boot-clad foot rested on the metal step under the door.  Then another boot joined the first.  The truck door obscured my view of the figure from the knee upward.
A skinny figure stepped out from behind the door and looked at me "Hi I'm Dick,  You look to be in a bit of a bind"  he said.
Angrily the old man interjected: "The last thing we need now is an interfering good Samaritan. Take my advise Dicky Boy... you get back into your rust bucket and scram before I loose my temper!"
Dick let out a mocking laugh. Squaring up to Purple Cape he said: "Well old timer, you nearly have me shaking in my boots there"
Pause.  "From LAUGHTER!"  More mocking laughter is heard from Dick as he pulls our a random pair of scissors and starts cutting out a gingerbread man chain on the bottom of Purple Cape Man's purple cape. I couldn't help but to let out a giggle as I see Dick bow and say, "wal law."
"Look here Skinny Get you bloody scissors away from my cape.  And don't be calling me old timer, the name is Rodney. I just cant get any  respect around here."
On a swift impulse the twin tore off the gingerbread man chain from the cape. Holding it tight against her chest she tip-toed to give both Dick and Rodney a quick peck on the cheeks. "Thank you, this is really lovely. My name is Tara and you are both so sweet." Turning on her heels she climbed into the truck.  Sitting in the cab with an impish smile on her face she motioned me to join her by gently patting the derelict seat beside her

LLL&R

Maebh

As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away. As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away.  The hollow sound of the trucks door latch echoed in the foggy air, then a painful creak pierced the night as the truck door swung open.  There was a groan as the figure shifted its weight in an attempt to get out of the truck.  One shiny boot-clad foot rested on the metal step under the door.  Then another boot joined the first.  The truck door obscured my view of the figure from the knee upward.
A skinny figure stepped out from behind the door and looked at me "Hi I'm Dick,  You look to be in a bit of a bind"  he said.
Angrily the old man interjected: "The last thing we need now is an interfering good Samaritan. Take my advise Dicky Boy... you get back into your rust bucket and scram before I loose my temper!"
Dick let out a mocking laugh. Squaring up to Purple Cape he said: "Well old timer, you nearly have me shaking in my boots there"
Pause.  "From LAUGHTER!"  More mocking laughter is heard from Dick as he pulls our a random pair of scissors and starts cutting out a gingerbread man chain on the bottom of Purple Cape Man's purple cape. I couldn't help but to let out a giggle as I see Dick bow and say, "wal law."
"Look here Skinny Get you bloody scissors away from my cape.  And don't be calling me old timer, the name is Rodney. I just cant get any  respect around here."
On a swift impulse the twin tore off the gingerbread man chain from the cape. Holding it tight against her chest she tip-toed to give both Dick and Rodney a quick peck on the cheeks. "Thank you, this is really lovely. My name is Tara and you are both so sweet." Turning on her heels she climbed into the truck.  Sitting in the cab with an impish smile on her face she motioned me to join her by gently patting the derelict seat beside her.  So I hopped in beside her, turned the key that was conveniently left in the ignition, and sped away from both Rodney and Dick, leaving them to choke on the dust clouds raised by my exit.

As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?"  Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
     "No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
     "Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
     "It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
     "Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
     I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears.  Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action.  My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."

     Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me.  I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away. As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away.  The hollow sound of the trucks door latch echoed in the foggy air, then a painful creak pierced the night as the truck door swung open.  There was a groan as the figure shifted its weight in an attempt to get out of the truck.  One shiny boot-clad foot rested on the metal step under the door.  Then another boot joined the first.  The truck door obscured my view of the figure from the knee upward.
A skinny figure stepped out from behind the door and looked at me "Hi I'm Dick,  You look to be in a bit of a bind"  he said.
Angrily the old man interjected: "The last thing we need now is an interfering good Samaritan. Take my advise Dicky Boy... you get back into your rust bucket and scram before I loose my temper!"
Dick let out a mocking laugh. Squaring up to Purple Cape he said: "Well old timer, you nearly have me shaking in my boots there"
Pause.  "From LAUGHTER!"  More mocking laughter is heard from Dick as he pulls our a random pair of scissors and starts cutting out a gingerbread man chain on the bottom of Purple Cape Man's purple cape. I couldn't help but to let out a giggle as I see Dick bow and say, "wal law."
"Look here Skinny Get you bloody scissors away from my cape.  And don't be calling me old timer, the name is Rodney. I just cant get any  respect around here."
On a swift impulse the twin tore off the gingerbread man chain from the cape. Holding it tight against her chest she tip-toed to give both Dick and Rodney a quick peck on the cheeks. "Thank you, this is really lovely. My name is Tara and you are both so sweet." Turning on her heels she climbed into the truck.  Sitting in the cab with an impish smile on her face she motioned me to join her by gently patting the derelict seat beside her.  So I hopped in beside her, turned the key that was conveniently left in the ignition, and sped away from both Rodney and Dick, leaving them to choke on the dust clouds raised by my exit.
Well this is the end. With the help of my twin, I become a more complete person. Other wise this thread would on forever.

Anyone else who wants to start a new story is welcomed to.

A nice fairytale for TGs....and with a happy ending. :)

HLLL&R

Maebh

New Story I guess...

Down the dusty road the horseman road without a care.

Down the dusty road the horseman rode without a care. It was time to get to work so she scanned the horizons for the tell-tales dust plumes of a rich carriage.

Down the dusty road the horseman rode without a care. It was time to get to work so she scanned the horizons for the tell-tales dust plumes of a rich carriage.She couldn't find any dust plums but instead, she found the tracks of what must be a very heavy carriage.

Down the dusty road the horseman rode without a care. It was time to get to work so she scanned the horizons for the tell-tales dust plumes of a rich carriage.  She couldn't find any dust plums but instead, she found the tracks of what must be a very heavy carriage.  In the blistering midday heat the followed the deep dug tracks farther on toward the horizon.