From a book about a poor happiness (Chapter "Hell")

By tataromanova

Under a turquoise roof is a small black room, which cast those who once died for love, for love, despite the love ... It does not matter. The reason for the sudden death has always provided the same ...
Here the fish tell people about their mistakes. Huge aquariums with a dirty, nasty water. Aquariums are full of mud and debris in them, forever tormented, swim souls. All this rubbish they are swallowed, kept in his entire life and with him as they smuggled here. Above each tank perched great lighting from the sun instead of bulbs. Greedy, ruthless sun each day, drink all the water in aquariums, or leaving the poor little soul single drop of liquid. Excruciating pain of bright rays pierce the empty shell of a shower, those terrible hours they spend under the gravestones at the bottom of their glass houses. But the eternal wandering under the heavy stone sculptures does not help ... The deadly tentacles of its closeness makes it to the likes of these cowardly man, a huge beak firmly grasps them ... At the very core of this fetid heat, they are doomed to spend the eternity. Someone would call them lucky!
The remaining souls to come every night to fill your aquarium again, my tears ... Memories worthless life squeezed out of them all the juices, wanting to fill a dilapidated shelter fluid, which helps them to live in this God-forsaken room. And so every night until he woke up the sun in the tubes ... Soul cry, howl, tormented himself trying to die ... But how to die the dead?
Death ... Rather inherent something alive that has blood, eats, breathes ... People!
Soul - it is not people. They are empty, like huge jars of clogged caps. Their heads are merged with their necks, their legs were no longer legs, hands clasped so much body that rooted for him. Mouth of the shower looked like a sand castle, which was washed away coastal wave. His eyes looked like jellyfish. His hair fell out from the horror they experienced on their way to this room. And then, of swamp-colored substance, crying with all my heart, slowly crossing the broken dreams of one to another, though a lone fish on the seabed, which pleased sheltered wreck. It is a whole world, with colors and sounds, the inhabitants of ... There is no harm, because the evil wished to remain on earth, in fear of the black room. Time to leave this place, leaving their children here. Everything here is free ... just can not get away from here somewhere ... In eternity, the void and cease to exist. From here the road only back in the world. Soul fear him more than the huge lamps and asexual shells. Black room - the house, it can hide ... from what? From one single reason ...
From love, because of which once they get here.

From a book about a poor happiness (Chapter

Created: Jul 26, 2010


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