Читать книгу The Immortal: Silent Killer - Stephen JD Grisham - Страница 4

I imagine myself standing in the field dreaming of a song in the meadows. I imagine myself humming a song my grandmother used to hum to me so that I would sleep.

“Oh my god is he ok? Someone get a paramedic!”

At this field I would ask myself why nature seemed so serene and pleasant, welcoming and beautiful when the world was such a mess. Such a broken tear streaked, strife filled mess?

“Hurry get him onto the stretcher! Time is running out!”

Ethereal being that seemingly exists, why did you show me this field, this beautiful field that lay before me.

“Stay with me! Stay with me! Don’t die!”

When all I want to do is burn it down?