HOW SHOULD I CONTINUE? PLEASE ANSWER! ONLY SERIOUS ANSWERS PPLEASE!!?
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF MY STORY SO FAR? HOW DO YOU THINK I SHOULD CONTINUE?
The wind thrashed at the panes lambasting them with exiguous boulders which killed the silence with their constant clatter. With every bullet that struck the glass it threatened to puncture releasing the melancholy out into the iciness of the tempest.
The air was thick with grief which hung to the suits who sniffed; taking in the musky taste of moth balls and dust which filled the room dispersing like twirling tendrils.
The conventions that had embedded themselves in the room included the damp which hung like dried blood on the wallpaper of purple diamonds, which splintered the wall leaving flaky skin and scratches that weaved around escaping at the windows. The only anomaly that broke the trend was the white of the vestments which hung in solemn manifestation overlooking the mourning suits.
They all seemed to cower in fear at the sight of the coffin which seemed to hover in the air lifeless. Even the ones who caught it the corner of their eye would instantly shiver and divert their attention to another part of the room. Of course they were all saddened by the death of person who would be forever asleep inside, but their death had been so suspicious that anyone who felt associated with it hadn't turned up to this occasion.
The clock at back of the room clinging to mantelpiece glared down at the gathering, bewitching them with its two hands clawing at the numbers persisting to 3 o'clock. It chimed once. It chimed twice. It chimed three times and everyone in the room was silenced. They all knew it. It was time to bury their child.
As they all made their way to their seats the only sound that was made was the creaking of the cold metallic chairs and more sniffling and wailing cries. All eyes turned to the attention of the old, grey vicar who loomed at the podium at the front pulling out from his robes a tatty, old papistry from which his droning voice boomed around the room, which began to ring in the ears of the glum faces that from time to time looked up from their handkerchiefs only to return bursting from the eyes with their despair.
Good grief 
Ooo linky please, we could really mess with the mind and do a whole 'three word story' or we could finish the story please don't take this opportunity from us.
