Part One Hundred and Twenty Four

 

 

 

Comments

  • Nice_work

    July 12, 2012, 2:59 p.m.

    This reminds me of a school play I once performed in. I had always loved drama, and was destined for the silver screen. But my teacher said I should work on emotional acting, and hired a coach to help me cry on cue. However, I was unable to do this, even after a year of practice. My coach, Nick, was getting increasingly annoyed at me. He asked me to remember a bad time in my life, but coming from a middle class family, I had a pretty sheltered life. After another year, Nick finally asked me to leave. 'I hadn't wanted to do this.' he said, leaving the room. What had he meant? I came home, unlocked the door, shouting my greetings. No reply. I walked into the lounge and saw my family, throats slit. They never caught Nick, but at least now I can cry on cue.

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