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I thought it was punch. It looked like punch, and had the consistency of punch, but with one sip I knew... the Seniors had pulled off their prank.
Hats used to be my thing. I collected them. I wore them. She burned them. All. I've always heard hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I learned just how painful cliches can be when they show up in real life and a lifetime, $200k hat collection is lost.
God's been calling me for awhile, I just haven't picked up the phone anymore.
There was no other feeling that I could ever have remembered as being so warm, so filling, so hopeful, and so exciting as the feeling of being overjoyed when I saw her face emerge through the crowd at the busy terminal. It was like life was real to me again.
I could still hear the rustling, but could see nothing through the mist save the ominous form of a dark figure. Tall, menacing, with an air of darkness that seemed to protrude from him, rather than follow meekly behind.