Have you heard of a place called Mong where the dream world intersects with the real world? At Mong, rules are easily bent and intuition often overwhelms logic.
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Desires go out of control and wishes come true in wrong ways. Once captured, monsters and villains from Mong are sent to the prison of Nightmare. A hideous serial killer manages to break out of the jail into the real world, terrifying the earthlings. A reporter from an obscure magazine company hunts the killer doggedly. Or is it the other way around? He has to find the clues about the killer before his girlfriend becomes the next victim.
Time is dashing forward. In desperation, the reporter decides to cross the border of no return and climbs down into Mong. Little did he know what's waiting for him at that murky place.
Somewhere carnal over 40 winks by Rom LcO'Feer | Books, Free books, Reading
In den Warenkorb. Melden Sie sich an, um diesen Artikel zu bewerten. Bitte anmelden. Unterschrift Datum TT. We want to be close- ly held. To my amazement, Fave has managed to get by with not so much as a suit- case and has led the life of a perpetual tourist, always on the outside looking in.
It must be unsettling to have no home to return to.
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A lightning bolt split the sky, and thunder shook my nest violently. Stars are sprinkled all over the silky black sky. In the dark shop window, the jewels look like worthless pieces of broken glass. Fave smashes the transparent case with a small hammer and draws out hand- fuls of gems. In the process, one of Fave's fingers is cut slightly and starts to bleed. The thief mutters some nasty swear words to ease the pain. The obese thief sucks the bleeding finger and winces.
Bloodstains are everywhere. Security cameras duti- fully capture the criminal frame-by-frame. The thief drops some jewels on the floor. The fat injured finger is in the way, especially as Fave begins to rush. The police will be here at any moment. Fave pauses, throws a quick glance at the pricey jewels on another shelf, and decides to pass them by. Time is running out.
Fave bags the loot and leaves the store deafened by the wailing alarm. The fearless thief has struck again. To be sure, this is anything but enjoyable for Fave. The jewelry thief can ignore the queer armpit odor, but the swinging potbelly is always in the way. Even a short walk puts the thief out of breath. Annoyed by the plump body, Fave swears now and again. Before long, the clumsy body will be shed aside.
He is featured in a recent issue of Time, but regarding his past, very little is mentioned in the article. As far as I know, it is deeply buried, out of human reach. His expression is mysterious, his eyes unreada- ble. His name printed in the front page is Quos which is what he has on his passport and his social security card. When you have no past, you can become virtually any- one. Everybody in the world recognizes him as a genius who first came up with a noble ultimate theory on life, the universe, and everything else.
His grand unified theory is supposed to surpass its precedents by miles. Titled as Full Circle theory, it is simple yet powerful, unambiguous but expressive, and specific yet encompassing. Or, at least that is how scientists typically describe it. Cutting across all human cultures and races in existence, this ultimate theory has been widely applied and readily accepted. Even everyday people turn to it to reinterpret the laws of physics and the nature of human life. The religious group has its own scriptures which put forward a deep understanding of the purpose and the salvation of the human soul.
Its membership has grown rapidly and steadily. Circlian is sanctioned even by countries whose gov- ernments strictly deny other religions.
Those governments have shown it favoritism because its doctrine explicitly denies the existence of deities. Quos has earned the title of the scientist of the millennium and is nicknamed Fabulous Einstein in the news magazine. I deny that he is the inventor of the theory. I know a scientist when I see one, and he is far from being a physicist by all the units of measure. All I know is who he truly is not. He spends most of his morning putting on makeup, which I find far from being manly.
He car- ries a silver spoon everywhere, and I often catch sight of him polishing it obsessively. I wonder if he was born with it in his mouth. The fake scientist normally wears a blank expression, as hard to interpret as a tail- less dog.chaschaepisy.gq
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Oftentimes I have spotted him murmuring to himself about who knows what. Nothing should be wanting in his life. Nevertheless, Quos rarely looks mirth- ful in spite of fame, never-withering wealth, youthful health, and a highly desirable wife. I am extra cautious whenever I need to approach this false Einstein. Once he finds out that I have observed him in secret, a fearful thing worse than death will fall upon me. In the beginning, not knowing his true nature, I casually hung around him.
When- ever I was in the same room with him, aside from getting a splitting headache, I was seized by an eerie feeling that someone was staring at me, like a chilly hand on the back of my neck. I had to scream. Let my soul go!