Love Letters On the TrainDear Stranger,More Like This
I'm leaving this post-it tucked in the side of the train-seat. If you're reading this, you've seen it. I've seen you sit here every few Monday mornings, sometimes tapping a bent, unlit cigarette against your thigh, sipping from your tea (who brings a tea cup onto a train anyway?); sometimes staring at the rain outside, or reading your well-worn, beaten copy of Jane Eyre (I hate that you fold the corners down - it's bibliophilic abuse. I wish the book would papercut you to defend itself a little, but I digress).
You seemed so sad this Monday morning past. Please smile again. I love it when your eyes catch the light of something I'm unaware of, something silently and intimately your own; a secret from the world that makes everything all the more meaningful to you.
- The Passenger
I'm not in the habit of reading post-its from strangers. I found a love-letter hidden in a newspaper once, that the author forgot or was too afraid to send. It made me sad to think
TTF: Chapter 68"W-Whats happening to them?"Knuckles said,looking at the fallen army."Looks like their body..is made out of darkness?" Eggman said,bending down touching their fur."I don't think so.."Knuckle said. The soldier's body was slowly fading into bits of darkness."Maybe your right,this is one hundred percent Fuse's work. He turning their body into darkness and using it as energy."Eggman said,standing back up."We gotta hurry..." Knuckles said."And you said the emerald is in the tower?"he asked."Yep,but i don't why it didn't pick up anything when i was first came to help you guys."Eggman said"Maybe because it was off."Knuckles said,making a duh face."For you to be a genius,you're not that bright." Knuckles started to walk forward to the tower with EggmanMore Like This
"That's what that blue rat told me before he turned all sideways. Teh,and your saying i'm not bright? teh,you all ways fall into my traps." Eggman continued."Since your the protector of the Master Emerald,why can't you track the emerald?" he ask
With Eyes Like TheseThings have never been easy on the one and only Alfred Jones.More Like This
Alfred was the oldest of one brother, given responsibility long before his time, to take care of a younger siblings and to look after his parents, to go through school and go to college, get a job and make money, support anyone and everything around him. Responsibility was a word, a phrase, a meaning not in his dictionary, a word he couldn't grasp, not that he couldn't understand, just didn't want to. A word that had always been thrown at him, forced upon him, even in his state.
Alfred was, very unfortunately, blind.
He had been since the age of ten, a tragic accident occurred, snatching his sight right from underneath him, unable to see the new faces coming and leaving him. Even with this disability, he'd always been forced into places he didn't want to be, never receiving sympathy, and when he did, it wasn't the right feeling.
So Alfred was always a hard worker, doing his best in school, getting proper help and passing his