The clouds coming in,children crying,usually families like that are unhappy aren't they ,not mine still I got up from the kitchen table and
excuse myself,'Gas,' I told everyone rubbing my stomach.' Your getting old dad,'laughed my eldest son Robert one of three sons I had and a daughter so I walked outside to see which direction those clouds were heading,here they come I look up,then I turned,' Robert come here I'm outside,we g.ot a storm coming we need to get the house ready.' He came outside and we started toward the shed I opened the door and reach for a shovel before he could react I hit Robert with it and he fell,then I put him in a trash bag and can and went back inside.' Call me old Robert will you.' end.
The fortunate inherit riches, prestige, positive notoriety. Those not so lucky bear legacies filled with poverty, infamy or, worse yet, the unhinged insanity and murderous urges of their ancestors.
