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Seriously, get off this shit site.
It was a dark and stormy night. Kind of like Malcom X if he'd been used as a description of the present weather phenomenon and time of day in the opening sentence of a Halloween tale.
Wind lashed the shutters of Carol Vordeman's country mansion, a flash of lightning silhouetted the weather vane against a pale autumn moon. A figure stepped out of the bushes dressed in inconspicuous attire. This man was desperate. He was driven to the edge of financial ruin, forced to consolidate his debts into one easy to manage monthly payment... and he knew there was only one woman for the job.
You require no explanation as to how I have returned.
Still, this is probably one of those "spur of the moment while I'm drunk" things, and will serve only to raise your hopes, before the unyielding truth that I am never returning slowly crushes them into oblivion once more.
Then again, I might actually be coming back a bit. Ha.