A nail, with some name engraved on it, suddenly appeared in the man`s hand. He settled it firmly with almost automatic movement on top of the wood block while his right hand, holding a hammer, raised in the air, ready to strike. With majestic looking hit the nail disappeared into the wood The boy sits on his bed in a small light room wearing some firm and definitely expensive clothes. His legs are crossed in lotus form and his hands lay on his knees. His face is young and calm, filled with some kind of unusual and almost unrealistic peacefulness. He doesn`t move and only the feeble movements of is chest suggest that he is still alive.
Suddenly he opens his eyes. His gaze is calm and at the same moment it is hard as steel. When your eye sights are crossing each other, you feel some kind of terror going through your heart and calling for an escape, but you can`t move. Although your eye contact lasts only a second or two, it seems like minutes. His hazel eyes are sucking you into him and in this gravely silence you can almost hear the cry but you are uncertain whom does it belong to you or him. Then, without changing his face expression, his right hand began to wonder around himself until it finally grasps the dull black glasses. He lifts it easily but it seems that for him they weight more than they must. He installs them firmly on his nose wile his left hand takes a stick the walking stick.
He stands up and moves towards the door and you follow him. The knocks of the walking stick on marble floor fall echoing throughout the hall. The boy`s steps are small and careful, but the monotonous knocks make the whole scene look haunted. The parents that lie on their bed in the room on the opposite end of the hall can hear these knocks but neither of them make a slightest stir. They just lie there, watching the walls. The boy opens the entrance door and moves towards the gate where the car is waiting for him.
The Essay on Ys In The Hands Of An Ego Tripped Boy
Little Toys in the Hands of an Ego Tripped god Well, let me introduce myself; my name is Chris Rodgers and as a child I was rather cleaver and many times extremely squirrelly. Because of that my childhood was even more interesting than most childrens. Many of the toys that characterized my essence when I was in the preteen years were the vintage models of the incredible G.I. Joes, The Teenage ...
You follow him through rows of roses growing the garden to the car whose door is already opened. When he sits down, his forehead accidentally hits the roof but the boy regains his senses fast and gets in the car. Before the door is clothed, you can see in the dim sunlight that there are two tiny rivers running down his cheeks from under the glasses but the motionless expression on the boys face indicate that they were not caused by physical pain A nail with some name engraved on it suddenly appeared in the man`s hand. He settled it firmly with almost automatic movement on top of the wood block wile his right hand holding a hammer raised in the air ready to strike. With majestic looking hit the nail disappeared into the wood. There is a lot of work to be done.
