The white hand of the judge had turned the hourglass upside down. So as every grain of sand went through the neck, events happened in time and place on Earth.
With a rustling noise, obscure clouds rushed to the far line of the horizon, summing into thousands oppressing the whole cavity.
She beheld in dread the enormous stretched branches of the colossal trees rocking to and fro as the car went at breakneck speed along the sinuous road through the forest.
The woman cried out, ‘slow down!’
‘I need to get there before the strike.’
Suddenly, a thunder had rolled. And, one shuddering terror went all over her, bursting cold perspiration from every pore of her body, as her heart fell into an utter depression.
‘Take your foot off the pedal.’
His brow reddened with rage.
‘Do it for our baby, please!’ She begged.
‘The company’s shares will drop if I don’t get there on time to stop the strike,’ her husband roared.
All of a sudden, her senses were left to susceptible perceptions. So inquisitional voices welled inside her and, indistinct sombre outlines emerged along the road. One kind of spooky anguish horrified her heart so that the agony of suspense was unbearable (She was so confused with these phenomena and the phantasmagorian conceptions of the headless angel forms seen nights ago.)
A repulsive dizziness strained her and, her sight went into blur.
Into the blackness of the Gods’ uncertainty the passengers of the vehicle were thrown. Above, wandering spirits gathered around the scene of the man’s head lying unconsciously on the steering wheel and the woman’s body overthrown through the broken windshield -whose blood leaked along the forehead.
Suddenly, the man caught of a bleary glimpse of a shape that grumbled some words, ‘shall I take her baby?’
‘Not the baby… Take her!’
‘I will please you,’ said the black robed spectre
Hence, the spirit had written his will in some volume of fortuitous events, so that his child was born and blossomed into a gorgeous woman.
‘Your strike of luck was to meet her,’ said the mother.
Having a tipple of the scotch, the son told, ‘I’d better wed her.’
‘By all means.’ The woman added. ‘So we will recover our position in society.’
The phantasmagoric conception with head of flame had slammed the hammer over the bench, and, in a jury box, one chorus of black robbed spectres cried, ‘ so be it.’
Old words had taken the winds out of the man’s sails.
‘I love him, father,’ told she.
‘To be honest, I am not sure about his feelings to you.’
‘But, I love him.’
It was written on the pages of unfortune that he was due to walk down on the aisle to the altar where he would deliver her daughter to the leech. Unpredictably, the reel of his old story was unwounded to occur anew.
‘You didn’t know the ropes!’ The woman shrieked.
‘Don’t take all the blame on me.’
‘The old man didn’t go wrong.’
‘Your old man, isn’t it?’ said he.
‘Have left us onto the streets.’
The black soul who had written the old man’s will before inked the woman’s fate on the volume of misfortune anew.
She looked at her sandals and, then said, ‘long way?’
One indistinct headless and black robbed spectre told, ‘you are at the end of the road.’
Suddenly the atmosphere became so close. Blue devils pervaded her soul. And, her heart tumultuously swirled as her senses were leaving to the body.
In one sombre office, the woman was hung to the ceiling.
‘Your mission was done,’ said the black spirit.
‘Incarnated my daughter, so I could do it.’
Then, one flame-like headed angel told, ‘indeed.’
And, the soul evolved into one superior order.
