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Nightmares
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Illusion It hurts
"Mr. Jeong, are you okay? You suddenly seem.... distracted." "I-I'm...fine, it's.... fine," Sung-ho answered somehow, his hands were shaking because of that ugly memory. He pressed his hands together forcefully under the desk, ignoring the pain running through his nerves Choi Dea looked at him with slight worry, wondering why he was sweating so hard. After he explained everything what happened with her sister and him, even though she wasn't sure whether it was truth or not, her expression softened a bit. She also noticed how he had reacted when she had mentioned his father Shi-woo. So she assumed that the relationship between Mafia son and father might not be good "Thank you for your explanation about Joo-eun," she said after a moment. "And I would prefer if you don't tell about this incident to anybody. Ever. Sung-ho frowned a little. "Urm, sure. She glanced at the bracelet again which her friend had given it to her when she was little. Even though she couldn't remember that,
Illusion At midnight
"I don't recall as we did." Giant was no more than five feet tall-his true name was Bedwyck-but a fierce little man for all that. "Slayer, did you ask Craster for his counsel?" Sam cringed at the name, but shook his head. He filled another spoon, brought it to Bannen's mouth, and tried to ease it between his l "Food and fire," Giant was saying, "that was all we asked of you. And you grudge us the food "Be glad I didn't grudge you fire too." Craster was a thick man made thicker by the ragged smelly sheepskins he wore day and night. He had a broad flat nose, a mouth that drooped to one side, and a missing ear. And though his matted hair and tangled beard might be grey going white, his hard knuckly hands still looked strong enough to hurt. "I fed you what I could, but you crows are always hungry. I'm a godly man, else I would have chased you off. You think I need the likes of him, dying on my floor? You think I need all your mouths, little man?" The wildling spat. "Crows. When did a b
Illusion Eating
xlq_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 Francisco, USA September, 2016 Mahone tightens the knot of his black tie around his neck, then fixes the collar of his coat. Actually, suit-coat always makes him feeling uneasy, but since it's a mourning day, he can't go there with his usual outfits. It has been three days since Garrett Greenham died. His daughter Samli
Illusion Desire
The drapes kept out the dust and heat of the streets, but they could not keep out disappointment. Dany climbed inside wearily, glad for the refuge from the sea of Qartheen eyes. "Make way," Jhogo shouted at the crowd from horseback, snapping his whip, "make way, make way for the Mother of Dragons." Reclining on cool satin cushions, Xaro Xhoan Daxos poured ruby-red wine into matched goblets of jade and gold, his hands sure and steady despite the sway of the palanquin. "I see a deep sadness written upon your face, my light of love." He offered her a goblet. "Could it be the sadness of a lost dream?" "A dream delayed, no more." Dany's tight silver collar was chafing against her throat. She unfastened it and flung it aside. The collar was set with an enchanted amethyst that Xaro swore would ward her against all poisons. The Pureborn were notorious for offering poisoned wine to those they thought dangerous, but they had not given Dany so much as a cup of water. They never saw me for a qu
Illusion Die
The morning air was dark with the smoke of burning goods. The old dry wood and countless layers of paint and varnish blazed with a fierce hungry light. Heat rose shimmering through the chill air; behind, the gargoyles and stone dragons on the castle walls seemed blurred, as if Moriah were seeing them through a veil of tears. Or as if the beasts were trembling, stirring . . "An ill thing," Hadassah declared, though at least she had the sense to keep her voice low "Silence," said Moriah. "Remember where you are. They were heading to the Garde Hundreds had come to the battle gates to bear witness to the burning of the Battle of Blood. The smell in the air was ugly. Even for soldiers, it was hard not to feel uneasy at such an affront to the gods most had worshiped all their live Moriah was thinking about his ancestors. They had overturned the altars, pulled down the statues, and smashed the stained glass with warhammers. The old Hand could only curse them, but Ser Hubard Rambton led
Illusion Fear
"Ah...." Celandine observed the man curiously who just came out from the chamber, going downstairs. She noticed the small hand batch on his black robe, wondering what that might be meaning. Suddenly everything around her changed. They traveled dawn to dusk, past woods and orchards and neatly tended fields, through small villages, crowded market towns, and stout holdfasts. Come dark, they would make camp and eat by the light of the moon and the lamps. The men took turns standing watch. Celandine would glimpse firelight flickeringthrough the trees from the camps of other travelers. There seemed to be more camps every night, and more traffic on the kingsroad by day. She somehow knew it was a dream. Morning, noon, and night they came, old folks and little children, big men and small ones, barefoot girls and women with babes at their breasts. Some drove farm wagons or bumped along in the back of ox carts. More rode: draft horses, ponies, mules, donkeys, anything that would walk or ru
Illusion Too much pain
She was grubbing for vegetables in a dead man's garden when she heard the singing. Arya stiffened, still as stone, listening, the three stringy carrots in her hand suddenly forgotten. She thought of the Bloody Mummers and Roose Bolton's men, and a shiver of fear went down her back. It's not fair, not when we finally found the Trident, not when we thought we were almost saf Only why would the Mummers be singin The song came drifting up the river from somewhere beyond the little rise to the east. "Off to Gulltown to see the fair maid, heigh-ho, heigh-ho . . . Arya rose, carrots dangling from her hand. It sounded like the singer was coming up the river road. Over among the cabbages, Hot Pie had heard it too, to judge by the look on his face. Gendry had gone to sleep in the shade of the burned cottage, and was past hearing anythi "I'll steal a sweet kiss with the point of my blade, heigh-ho, heigh-ho." She thought she heard a woodharp too, beneath the soft rush of the rive "Do you h
Illusion The End
Moriah opened his eyes, blinking at the light. Everything around him was white just like vast space, except there wasn't darkness. All around the place was so bright, but there was nothing except him as if he was floating on there alone, in the middle of nowhere. 'What happened? Where am I?' He slowly lifted his head up, it was pounding like a hammer. Of course, he found it slightly ridiculous that he was sitting on nothing or perhaps on an invisible seat. He should have been scared and worried and felt lost, but since he was unaware of those feelings, he became wary. "Slept well?" A female voice made his head jerk to the other side. Moriah grimaced. Hadassah muttered something under her breath, and the next moment he fell from that place. He opened his mouth to scream, but the air was rushing him down, he could feel the unbelievable weightlessness of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, a second later he heard the desperate shriek which could be his own voice... Crunch!
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