The laughter stopped, and a faint sound crept slowly towards them, so faint that it was almost inaudible, but it grew louder and louder until they could clearly distinguish it as the sound of footsteps. The sound of footsteps moving slowly away. Crackle, crackle, they're gone & # 8212; & # 8212; the familiar ones The sound of shuffling, thin footsteps. However, & # 8212; & # 8212; must be right. & # 8212; & # 8212; Suddenly Another footstep joined in, and it went quickly and briskly. Then, with the same pace, they walked together towards the door. Down, down, down, past the door, closing the door, crackling, crackling, the footsteps of the invisible child moved forward together. Mrs. Lancaster listened frantically and desperately. They are two & # 8212; & # 8212; are two ?” Her face turned gray with fear, and she ran toward the crib in the corner,CNC machining parts, but her father stopped her gently and pointed away. There it is. He said simply. Crackle, crackle & # 8212; & # 8212; The sound is getting weaker and weaker. Blur. Finally, there is boundless silence. ? Txt novel paradise wWw. xiaoshuo txt.co? The Secret of the Blue Jar Jack Hartington looked down at his powerful header with a worried look on his face. ? Standing next to the ball, he turned to look at the tee and measured the distance. He felt his face full of disgusting satisfaction. With a sigh, he waved the iron in his hand and drew two sharp arcs. A dandelion and a tuft of grass beside him were driven to fly by the sharp wind of the club. The club hit the ball accurately. When you are twenty-four years old, you are still living with a passion for golf, but you have to spend time and energy to make a living. How hard it is. For five and a half days a week, Jack could be seen locked in a "mahogany grave" in the city. On Saturday afternoons and Sundays he was able to live his real life, and his great love of golf led him to rent a room in a small hotel near Stoughton's Hunsline. Every morning, he gets up at six o'clock, titanium machining parts ,die casting parts, exercises for more than an hour, and then takes the 8:46 bus into town. The only drawback to this schedule was that during the morning, he seemed to be born unable to hit any targets. Terrible. One shot only hit one bobble. The ball hit by his five-iron rolled along the ground, and the four-putt putt seemed to be the most unsuccessful on any golf course. Jack sighed, gripped his club tightly, and kept repeating to himself the "wonderful" words: "Swing your left arm at a right angle, don't look up." He staggered back & # 8212; suddenly He stopped, looking lost. A shrill cry pierced the silence of the summer morning and reached his ears. Murder! Help! ? Murder! It was a woman's voice, which soon turned into a soft sigh and finally disappeared. Jack dropped his club and ran in the direction of the sound. The call came from somewhere nearby, which was also part of the golf course, but it was a very deserted countryside with several houses. In fact, there was only one house nearby. It was a beautiful cottage, and because it had an air of old-world elegance about it, Jack often noticed it. He ran toward the cottage, where he did not see a slope covered with cuckoos. He circled around and spent at least a minute. Then he stood in front of the cottage and put his hand on a small locked door. There was a girl standing in the garden, and for a moment Jack automatically assumed that the cry for help had come from that girl. But soon, he changed his mind. The girl was carrying a small basket with some weeds. It was obvious that she was weeding the violets in the flower bed. The well had just stood up straight. Her eyes, Jack noticed, were as velvety as the violets. She was dressed in purple linen, and she stood so straight that she looked like a violet. Seeing Jack, the girl looked worried and surprised. Can you say that again? The young man said, "But were you shouting just now?" Me? No, it really isn't. She was so surprised that Jack himself was puzzled. Her voice is very soft and melodious, with a slight foreign accent. "But you must have heard it," he exclaimed. "It came from here somewhere." She glared at him. I didn't hear anything. This time it was Jack's turn to stare at her, and it was incredible that she could not have heard the struggling cry for help. However, she seemed so calm that he could not believe that she was deceiving himself. "It's coming from around here," he insisted. This time, she looked at him a little suspiciously. What did you shout? She asked. Murder! Help! ? Murder! "Murder! Help!" & # 8212; ? Murder! Repeated the girl. Maybe someone's playing a joke on you, sir. Who here could be murdered? Jack looked around, his confused head hoping to find a body on the garden path or something. However, he was still very sure that the call he heard was real and not a hallucination produced by him. He looked up at the windows of the villa,car radiator cap, and everything seemed very quiet and peaceful. Do you need to check my house? Said the girl coldly. Obviously, she didn't believe what Jack said, which made Jack wonder even more about himself. He turned his back. autoparts-dx.com