Screams in me

When Celine was trying to adapt, she was questioning why Myles had been in her room. I want to sleep. What if I just got new, said another time if we had a conversation. Myles looked carefully at Celine's face. Who was this, when he came into his room and lay on his side bed. . Who are you, kim Myles said. Celine rolled her eyes and turned his back at Myles's disrespect. She always felt like she was sleeping, Myles.

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Because she had just forgotten that she was in the garden, she was walking and she got tired and she was gasping on a bench. He got up to change his outfit. He was going to go down there and draw pictures in the hobby room. His biggest passion was black pencil. He opened the locker. A pink sweater decided on a black pants. In fact he only thought of them first, but when he looked at other clothes he forgot that he had chosen them and made the choice once again. Then five more consecutive choices. He made five forgotten choices and kept on top of the mirror in the sixth election. After a relentless scream.

Screaming husband screaming in each mirror. Every day maybe ten times the pain screaming. It's the face of the wrinkled face and the whitening hair, that's unacceptable. And that blonde hair is white to realize that baby's face resembles an elderly.

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She screams, she can't remember being wet. And a mind that doesn't know it's happening every day. It's the brain that hasn't been able to memorize anything for 25 years. It's a repetition of that old life that there's nothing new. Myles was going to let herself in the mirror again, thinking it was her, until we looked in the next mirror.

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