Rose Madman _ Stephen King _ txt Fiction Paradise Full-time Job

She went into the kitchen, wondering whether she should take a leisurely and leisurely bath to wash away the bad luck of the day. But she stopped and frowned. The door of her study was ajar. "Damn it," she murmured. "Damn it!" She hates it when her privacy is invaded. Her door was unlocked because she didn't believe she was weak enough to lock it. Anyway, this is her place. The girls and women were here thanks to her generosity and permission. She doesn't need a lock on the door. She has enough desire to get in. Most of the time, but there will always be a woman who thinks she really needs to find a document from Anna; Really need to use Anna's copier (it doesn't take that long to warm up compared to the copier in the room under the stairs), really need to stamp, etc., so this rude guy broke in and walked around in his own territory, looking at other people's things casually, so the air was filled with the smell of cheap perfume. Anna's hand paused on the door handle of the study. This room used to be a pantry when she was a little girl. Her nose fluttered and her brow furrowed a little. There was a smell coming from somewhere, but it wasn't perfume. The smell reminded her of the mad Marxist. This is "Our men wear English leathers or nothing." My God! Jesus Christ! Her arms were covered with goose bumps. She was a woman who was proud of her profession,plastic pallet crates, but she could easily imagine the ghost of Peter Slovik waiting for her in the study, a ridiculous and illusory ghost spraying his usual Cologne perfume.. Her eyes fell on a light in the darkness: the transponder. The red lights were flashing as if everyone in the city had called today. She knew at once that something must have happened. Probably at Ettinger's Quay. Someone's hurt. Oh, God, don't let this happen. She stepped into the room, her fingers feeling for the light switch near the door. The switch was on and she stopped in bewilderment. Since the switch was on,ibc spill pallet, the ceiling light should have been on, but the room was dark. Anna flipped the switch up and down twice and was about to flip it a third time when a hand landed on her right shoulder. As soon as she felt the heavily pressed hand, she screamed, and the frantic cry at the top of her voice rushed out of her throat, like the voice of a heroine in a horror film. As the other hand gripped her left arm tightly and twisted it behind her back, she saw the dark figure of the man in the kitchen light, and she screamed again. The thing that had been waiting for her behind the door was not a person. It has strange, tumor-like horns on its head. It is — "Let's hear it for the bull." Said an empty voice. She understood that it was a man in a mask, plastic pallet suppliers ,collapsible bulk containers, but it didn't make her feel any better because she already knew exactly who he was. She struggled to free herself from his grip and retreated to the desk. She could still smell the English cowhide, but now she smelled something else, too: hot rubber, sweat, and urine. Is that her urine? Did she pee on herself? She doesn't know. Her lower body was completely numb. Don't touch me. Her voice trembled, quite different from the usual calm and authoritative tone. She fumbled behind her for the alarm button. It was here somewhere, but it was covered by a pile of papers. Don't you touch me! I'm warning you! "Anna-Anna-Bah-Fana.." The horned monster said in a thoughtful tone, closing the door behind him. Now they are completely in the dark. Don't touch me. She said, moving slowly along the desk. If she could go into the bathroom and lock the door -- "Fermo-manna." Pass on the left. Close. She rushed to the right side again, but she was a step slow. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her, and she wanted to scream again. The arms clenched tighter, and she could only gasp silently. If I were Cassidy, I would-she was thinking, and Norman's teeth were on her throat. He sniffed at her face like a young antelope in captivity in Lover's Street. Then his teeth sank into her throat, and something hot sprayed down her chest, and she stopped thinking about it. www.xiaoshuotxt.com Chapter 8 Long Live the Bull 2. Small% say ^ txt-day. Don 7 When the last question was asked and all the statements were signed, it was already dark. Rosie had a dizzy feeling of unreality, as if she had just taken an all-day exam that she used to take in high school. Gerstassen went to prepare his desk work, holding a pile of papers on his chest like a sacrament. Rosie got up and walked over to Bill, who was already on his feet. Gert went to find the bathroom. Ms. McClendon? Hale sat there calling her. Rossi's tiredness was suddenly frightened away by the sudden fear. Bill was too far away to hear anything Hale might have to say to her. He would tell her, in a low, mysterious tone, that she should stop all the foolishness she did to her husband for the sake of her own future while there was still time; that she should keep her mouth shut in front of all the policemen unless they asked her. He would remind her that what was going on here was a family dispute, something like that. "I will catch him," Hale said gently. "I don't know if I can make you believe me, but I want you to listen to me anyway. I will catch him. I promise you. She opened her mouth and looked at him. I'm going to catch him because he's a murderer, a maniac, and he's dangerous. I'm doing this for another reason,collapsible pallet box, and that's because I don't like the way you look at this room. You jump up whenever there's a noise, and even when I move my arm, you seem to be frightened. "I didn't." binpallet.com