Spring lodge

  A Man who was (let's say moderately rich) had a wife and five children. In her middle thirties the woman developed a serious tumor which was almost incurable. Her husband had to get some Loan from his work to send her for treatment. The operation they could afford could only solve the problem temporarily, but they couldn't afford the money needed for a better one to solve the problem permanently but they hoped to get the money to able to do that. There first son had just entered the University newly and was demanding a lot of money and there other children were also in costly schools. The man's business were not faring well too and he was getting exasperated. After talking to a friend, the friend told him to do  the thing  -To kill her wife for money. The man couldn't bear the idea so he went home and told his wife about the evil suggestion. The wife after a long time thinking told him to go ahead with the plan since it would make him very rich and her children comfor

  We give and never receive, We grab and never appreciate, My concern was so much about life's glory than burdens, Life is bad for most people are not faithful, I have seen it all in my struggle's, Handling a favour does not make the love, For mostly we are living unjust, Why life is Unfair? Many never appreciate all you did, Many will never see you as a Being, Many are selfish for all their concerns, Life is so Unfair, Life is not just, Since everyday people die, Never apprecaite the birds, the trees, the animals, Life is Unfair, Many burst and kill, Life is Unfair, Talkin bad about me, This is not fair at all.

  Do you seriously believe that's it? Yes, I hear the whistle of it blowing past my ears; Throwing back my hair from my face. I see it moving the trees, their branches violently tossing back and forth. I sense their struggle, holding tight, refusing to let go. But is it really the wind? Is the invisible force just a swiftly moving chilled air? Maybe there's more. Maybe it's alive; Alive with spirit, restless, angered, and revenge seeking. They're the ones screaming in your ear from their painful suffering, Telling you their stories. Times they've failed, times they've been led astray, times they've been abandoned, these things of the past that torture them deepest. Maybe it's them who knock on your window. They move the branches; they pull them, push them, with taps, clicks, slaps, and chilling screeches as they slide against the glass. Trying everything to find their way in to slither across the floor and hide in corners, beneath furniture, behind doors