Pages of history:
That was his name and still is. A ghost. A ghost on the highway. A ghost on the road that didn't have a much on it that suspected.
A ghost that spoke to many and made many flee in fear. Like on this planet on so many other planets. Above and below ground.
They almost made an X files episode about this ghost. X files is a sci fi show that popular throughout the world. Other planets have the same name and premise.
3000 years ago there was a show called this.
There was also the episode on the ghost. His show turned into two.
Killing and haunting.
Haunting without warning.
Warning without sense.
The killed weren't too lucky but apparently bad. Evil incarnate as they would say then.
I didn't live here then but some friends of mine did and the show was legendary.
A show everywhere in the world.
Pages of history with his faded look and sorry smile. Sorry every one and everything.
Those who threw the brick at him on highway didn't get away. They lost their faces. Immediately.
As him as others who walked and still walk the highways those pricks who tread violence found it in themselves fervently.
Let all beatings begin he said. Let all begin.
Carrying the legend of the roadway can't be easy he'd said. All those years too. He said that too.!
In puzzlement the pricks wouldn't bother but beg as they realize who would win.
Now all is sad. Crippled and bedridden. The days just drift off!/.
People shouldn't throw bricks on highways at people they can't see or even kill.
Clown of clowns.
The ghost.
The sightings.
Why do you thing I write these things down.
It's not so apparent someone said but I really can't. Just a joke. I can't tell what others think.
If my name is my name then it is. That is what pages of history said. I don't think it fades. In the faces of many. Those who lay there with none. He took. They struck. Fair is fair.
When the cotton candy sinks then it stinks. Thats when some one stole his cotton candy and threw a bullet in his side.
Guns and guns. Some times he carrys a lunch pale with a gun. Emptys the bullets and throws the gun down.
The wind blows silent and slight. It blows and blows.
The victim helpess and wordless seeks all death. Death beckons and no awaits. Imment and verbal the ghost strikes invisibly.
Variably the argument lasted none. And so the word is written. Death is death.
Death is for the con whom and where ever he roam.
He is death and death certain.
Give me my cake the ghost says.
The road is windy!:.
The road is windy!:.
It's lights out!:.
Nitetime sky!:
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