The Seven Chairs
The fifth one ended up in France.
I have left the mystery lingering in the air, like the faint smell of wood lingering in a lumber mill. The smell so strong, tingles the nose of my hair. Thousands of minds ponder to my pleasure, mwah!
That Peter Wenders! He had said he would be glad in purchasing my books. Now, I snort ***. That man is no true man, for he had broken his word. When I had first realized the true intentions of Mr. Wenders, I played marbles, complications, complications.
I remember that day so vividly, the memory stuck in my brain. That day on August 17, 1957 was a sunny and quiet afternoon. I had realized, he had noticed, what I had little time to see and quickly looked away, that is why my stories had not shown. He has won and with no warnings given, the ominous force he had within him, which had been applied to every one of those seven chairs.
I am sorry to say that I was of no good contribution and I regret entering that crumby office, to this day. I had created those pictures with the intention of making those idiots around the world, think. This man, this treacherous man, he went and made those chairs into something much more! He had used those chairs as markers for sins.
“To bestow gifts”, he had said, when I asked. I remember the wheezy-hoarse, sound of his voice. “Those who demand for power, could be given it!”