If anything“Such a penetrating gaze could not belong to a mere mortal. Some of us live very long lives and are still subject to surprises right up to the very hour of our demise. However, those eyes had been hardened by otherworldly things. » The sound of overwhelming silence escaped the audience. His words had moved them with astonishing effect; however, if anything had been hardened by otherworldly things, it would have been the expression on the face of Chief Constable Edward Norris, of the District Police, when he uttered these last words. Sleep hadn't seen his eyes since we left the hospital, and that was three days ago. However, he delivered our speech without a hitch. Never has a monotonous tone produced such a strange dance with our various distractions. The coffee stains, the unkempt mustaches, the usual talking points for those with more opulent taste were as obvious as absent thought. The speech ended as it began, in silence, the crowd waiting for the leader's signal. all we have at this point,” the leader said as his head finally turned and he began to leave the podium. His last words “Thank you”. The crowd erupted. Everyone had a question to ask someone. Hands, voices, and cameras filled the air as I watched from the shadows of my seat in the back. The old ceiling fans in the church hall only appeared occasionally behind the chaos. They only seemed to remind me of a persistent inconsistency in a world of the opposite gender. It was time for me to leave. I moved from the familiar plastic chairs at the local church hall to the brand new oak doors that I heard had only been installed a week before this impromptu meeting. She too bore her scars and her misery...... middle of paper......ircase'. The second floor needed a lot more work. The walls were empty, the floors were bare and the atmosphere was dry. Before entering the room, the constable and I looked at each other, then we both looked at Miss Sheffield. “Open the door,” she asserted. The door slowly creaked open and the devil was left to play with the mind. “Oh my God,” she gasped, “was that written with…” “Blood?” Yes, “I believed in an imagination that had properties similar to those of most plastics. You could stretch and distort the mind by forcing new ideas into it, but there is no way to reset the mind. With each increasingly shocking image, the threshold was only going to be offset by a certain degree of personal discontent. The only real danger lay in not having the ability to stretch and meet the demands of what was before our eyes..