It was a snowary morning as Ihginer lies in his messy bed half-awoke. Outside, the snow still fall since that of late midnight, the darkness of the cloudy sky gave him the gloomy depressed pitiful cursed of tireness as it block the dawn of gentle daylight which he had taken for granted. Across from his blurry titled window, the howling of the mecryless wind did not gave him comfort of optimitism and hope which had plaged him since Augusta enter Old Castle High. For he was one of theirs best, only till now of late last October's June, it was all taken from him in a single duel of fate. He cursed her not without that of passion, but with grace; from once, he had promise to himself ``never will I step back to lay.``
As his eyes slowly and willingly open to a new day. He thought, `the snow, it is crystalize-white. Upons it reflecting factured wings, light rays emulated. It fall ever uniformly and steadily as it cutted thru cloud-filled light, breaking its bonds to shink the sky itself. Manqueed delight was the result, what is this snowbow that I only notice till now.` Reduranctly, what left of his manly stamina, he angrily huffs the blanket aside. Despite mothernature's will which have opened his eyes, still bitter over the title of scholarship he had lost; hurtful! For it was an unknown little girl and a freshman for grieved sake. `Oh, how beautiful her face that I first saw, but I did not watched in 'aww.' Her hair, it is so black and dark that it is purple when one observes from afar. Her eye-hairs, it glazzing cold determines my once lustful ways frozen in times my shame, punched thru my heart like an arrow. The reflection within her eyes, so soft and smooth soul away all the evilness that I ever known. As if it never existed. `Oh my captain, my captain, must she hypothize you too. ` `No. She had not. -- --> But will your planned intership survive.` He movingly recall of his adolescence proverty, his mother and father dream of an educated young man, and his hunger days walking the street market secretly scapper for food; his hate and resentment of the so-called nobles in this vast mountians land. `Another day, another battle.` Rushfully showered, he put on the downgraded '`disgraced`' uniform and heads toward school.
--"Hey there handsome; did you forgot to comb your messy hair this morning," mockly questions Ellie. A quite stylist critical-tastful lady whose loop her way around school strict appearance standards without the principal comments and official outcries.
--"I do not comb a mess," quickly respond Ihginer, as to avoid her bothersome present.
--"'Educated' you are! For this is the result of a d!ck." Ellie retarded.
--"I did say that on purpose and for a meanful purpose; hope that you will not take it to heart."
--"You are right that I have a heart, and so do you, good day then," waving her harded left-hand as she run to class.
In class, Ihginer sit in the second row by the window. By his rear is Ohso, a quiet, yet skillful bowman and intern-engineer-appentince of Mr. Lang. His nose is highly vage and roughly round, shyly flat and fat. Bulky eyes he have, yet it tilled upward sightly overture his overall sadly look. They called him: "quiet old' man." In front of him, sat that little girl, and, `of course a torn that must be crush for all to see. ` He did not know her real name and orgin for he have not directly asked himself.

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--"I hEaRd tOday we wiLl bE hAvInG a sUb," `comment the silly frog-face little girl in her zApPeRiZaAbAa girly tone. `'s seconds overmoarn; as his jealous conception of her cry.
--"I am sorry, did you meant what we will have for lunch or a subtitute teacher?" `Gosh, I cannot believed you lost to this girl; perhaps she "power down." `'s egolly requested a guild as he calmly reply.
She did not replied. As it turn out, the subtitute teacher is a well-rounded gentleman whose goes by the name Bliztenbugger. "Hello, 'hey' there, howl are you?" Destroying his-own perfected' 'images as he enters while silently whisser his devil tongues, waving and pointing as he goes.
--"What's today date good sir," inquires Augusta as she focus her `pointy poping- ` eyes on Mr. Bliztenbugger forehead.
--"Why? It is not Sunday is it?" Looping her questions by sewing his, "perhaps you and Ihginer (noting the exposed name that came with the uniform) can be that of my honor guess; as I have to prove myself to you all, after all'."
The little lady muggle her way to the board, standing on both feets yet with only her left toe, break the chark in half and say, "wAs thEn hEaven WIll, it is only a once Distance memories of meChanizing pains; shall we all Dances once again, for keeness sake, we all monKEY's play. Luck! Who need luck when one have skills and will's "'now that of a dagger o'f hell,'" writing dases lines and drew with both her hands:
--------------was---------------------------------------------------------------
--------------then--------------------------------------------------------------
-----------heaven will---------------------------------------------------------
It is only a once distance memories of mechanizing pains---------------
Shall we all dances once again, for keeness sake, we all monkey's play
Luck! Who need luck when one have skills and will power----------------
----------now that of a--------------------------------------------------------
------------dagger o'f---------------------------------------------------------
---------------hell--------------------------------------------------------------
Pausing for a moment, Mr. Bliztenbugger exclaim "it take two to tangle but other half let it stay, what of dagger when once have shield." He proceed to draw a block on the broad:
----t'angl'e----
----hourow----
----europe----
----noboos----

To be continues

What time period is this?

I just make stuffs up as i go along. Anyway, the story continues bah bah bah fills in planks. Well, I am just bore because I don't have a job that I want. My points are English on this forum have alot more room for creativity and imagination; did you know:

It is possible to make words on here physically transform as one read. Certainly, it is a norm that we read from left to right (here on this forum), so it is plausible that with the add-on effects of colors one can make words stood out, and move letters as the eyes move accordantly.

It is possible to control the reader tempo. Words like "monothesis" and "hi" have its tonal recognition, and words like "Mcdonald" and "Abuljamihabal" have its own regional recognition, and so on (please excuse and accept my apology for my reckless spelling.) As a writer, clearly, one do not wants to control the reader, but to convey a message to provide and encourage merits, to envoke creativity, and so on.

Did you know that if one were to live in a stable world, it is also plausible to insert dreams, hopes and characters into reader. These are good traces of an excellence writer.


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********hanks fOr ReAdiNg