narab1
iPF Novice
CS2 ...of the promise he had made to himself on the fourteenth of September last year: this year would be the last time. And yet, here he was again. What was it about this place that drew him back, year after year? Chumleyboo, level 83
CS3
He wondered about the ducks too. Were they also creatures of habit? Was it possible that they couldn't let go either? Somehow he doubted it and knew it was just crazy talk. That's what his mother called it. He could hear her shrill voice echoing in his brain. She never thought much of anything he did and the ducks were his escape. How he longed to fly away with them someday. The sun beat down on his bald head wreaking its revenge on his lack of hair. A weathered man with kindly eyes sat down beside him on the bench. "Those ducks sure like bread," he remarked.....
GC: narab1 | HD: level 70 | DV: level 30