Ket qua xo so Vietlott ngay 14/5

how to make money in simpsons tap out

datatime: 2022-12-08 14:05:07 Author:xgYWsSNd

To me, Richard, I have something left to prove to me.

Then why do it?

I shrugged. Maybe, but I still have to do it.

And I can taste fresh blood on yours, but I have to do it because it scares me.

He knelt beside me and spoke softly, I can smell your fear. I know you don't like close places.

If I can crawl down into that hole.

Why? and the anger was more than a faint hint now.

I shook my head. No. He's mine.

What difference would it make if you couldn't climb down in that stinking hole? You'll never have to do it again, Anita. Just don't do it.

And I can taste fresh blood on yours, but I have to do it because it scares me.

To me, Richard, I have something left to prove to me.

Then why do it?

He shook his head. I let this happen. I'll get him out.

He knelt beside me and spoke softly, I can smell your fear. I know you don't like close places.

Just to see if I can.

I stared back into the hole and let myself acknowledge just how afraid I was. So afraid that I could taste something flat and metallic on my tongue. So afraid that my pulse was hammering in my throat, like a trapped thing. My voice came out calm, normal. I was glad. It doesn't matter that I'm afraid. I touched the flashlight, tried to pull it from his hand, but he held on. And, short of playing tug of war -- which I would probably lose -- I wasn't getting it away from him.

Give me the flashlight, Richard.

I shook my head. I have to do it, Richard.

Then why do it?

Why do you have to be the toughest, the bravest? Why can't you, just once, let me do something for you? Going down in the hole doesn't scare me. Let me do this for you. Please. His voice was still soft, and he was leaning into me enough so that I could smell the drying blood on him, the richness of fresh blood in his mouth, as if some small cut had not healed completely.

I looked at him, at the puzzlement in his face, his eyes, which had bled back to their normal, perfect brown. I'd been trying to explain shit like this to Richard for a few years now. I finally realized that he would never understand and I was tired of trying to explain myself, not just to Richard, to everybody.

Because it scares me, and I have to know if I can.

Just to see if I can.

I stared back into the hole and let myself acknowledge just how afraid I was. So afraid that I could taste something flat and metallic on my tongue. So afraid that my pulse was hammering in my throat, like a trapped thing. My voice came out calm, normal. I was glad. It doesn't matter that I'm afraid. I touched the flashlight, tried to pull it from his hand, but he held on. And, short of playing tug of war -- which I would probably lose -- I wasn't getting it away from him.

I sighed. Less and less scares me, Richard. So when I find something that does bother me, I have to test it. I have to see if I can do it.

FeedBack
Copyright © 2022 Chrales (United States) All rights reserved. The information contained in Chrales (United States) may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed without the prior written authority of Chrales (United States)