A Short Story ...it was a cold, frosty winters day and I looked up into the cloudy sky as sleet nestled on my brow. Holding my right hand soflty was my only and precious daughter Synthia. She meant the world to me, and this was a memorable occasion. We have never had much spare change but I had saved up a pound during the week especially for this day. You see, when my little child is happy, I am also and that's how we work - well ever since her mother died. As we walked nimberley through the shopping mall doors, a blast of hot air hit us from above, partially drowning our shivers. We looked at each other and the she ran, quicker than a cat whose had it's tail wrapped to a firework. This has always been my biggest regret, if only I'd held her hand more tightly. We glanced at each other as she approached Father Christmas's Grotto, across the stressful and crowded shoppers. It looked like every small child's dream, a winter wonderland empire with every child's heroin waiting to deposit their gifts and make their fantasies come true. This fantasy however only belonged to Santa... ...I arrived too late. She darted from his knee in such terrible pain and then I knew, distinguishing efforts between Santa's and my precious faces it stood firm. Every parents nightmare had happened to me - I'd have been better purchasing a scratch card. KNOW WHO ARE THE SICK FUCKERS! :evil:
Iam not a betting man but iam prepared to wager a tenner that you will not be on this messageboard by the end of the week
I hope he's gone for that i'm not a violent person but if i ever met whoever this is i'd be on an assault charge. I'm a father so this really gets to me :evil:
