Mein Zorn kannte keine Grenzen und so fickte ich sie auch. Immer wieder titulierte ich sie mit Nutte, Schlampe, Fotze und was mir noch so alles durch ...einen wütenden Kopf rauschte. Drehte sie um, steckte ihr den Kolben von hinten in die Fotze. Ich schlug sie auf den Arsch, er verfärbte sich dunkelrot, mir war es egal. Auch dass sie mit dem Kopf immer wieder gegen die Fensterscheibe hinter der Sofalehne schlug plagte mein Gewissen nicht im Geringsten. Sie kam heftig unter meinen harten. Time waits for no one. Life moves on. And with the reading of my Aunt's will, my life changed in ways I could never have imagined even in my wildest dreams.Here is that story.*A few days after her funeral, I found myself standing outside my Aunt's bungalow which she had bequeathed me during the settling of her estate. Number 145 Maple Drive was situated at the far side of a square cul-de-sac made up of four similar single bedroomed homes. It was part of a larger neighborhood made up mostly of. More

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