Tuesday, 7 January 2014

Staple attitude

Always nice to dream about my dad, I really do miss him. I was at my mums house and it was late at night. 
Mum was going out but was sat half way up the stairs and had fallen asleep. 

I prodded her and she woke with a start. I said to her that I thought she was going out and it was as if she had suddenly remembered and she hurried upstairs. 

I walked out of the front door and into a pub. It had a massive long bar with just one person sat on a stall. I instantly recognised them as my dad and rushed over to him. He smiled, handed me a drink and all was good with the World. 

I was next in a street and it was very sunny. Along a wall was some wooden advertising boards and from behind them I could hear some lads shouting. 

Thinking they were up to no good I followed their shouting to the end of the boarding where two teenage lads popped out. I grabbed hold of them both. 

One of them started crying and was full of remorse. The other lad was acting very cocky and gave me serious attitude. I grabbed him round the neck and slammed him into a wall. I reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a staple gun. 

The boys expression changed when I started to smack him around the head with it. I threw it on the floor and crushed it by stamping on it. I then walked off. 

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