Dreams Die First...

Persistent knocking on your door, early in the morning, wakes you up. You tumble out of bed bleary eyed and fumble to the door, then fumble even more for the bolt and open it only to see pasty face next door pushing his glasses up his nose and giving you a confused smile.

“Knife is there?”

Whoa! “Where?” you’re shaken. And you look around equally confused and a little scared. Is someone going to pounce on you? Is there someone behind pasty face who will reveal himself, wielding a knife?

What did he or they want? What did you borrow that you forgot to return and warrants an early morning knock on your door?

Then it hits you. He’s come to borrow your knife.

As you hand it to him in relief you grind your teeth thinking, “I hope you know where to stick it”.

You had almost got it made with Celina Jaitley when pasty face knocked you off your dream. Hrump!

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