can I finish it myself?
the doors opened. What should have been a blank wall was instead a swirling vortex, a maelstrom of energy uninhibited by form; hypontic patterns swirled to the surface - beautiful, beguiling - before winking out in a flash of brilliance, only to be replaced by another, and another, each more wonderful than the last. Though I made no conscious movement, my legs propelled me forward; like a sailor drawn to a siren, I was ensnared.

The first touch as my arm rose unbidden was electrifying; a earth-shattering jolt of pain and pleasure by equal part. Corruscating motes of light danced down my wrist, down my arm - and with a wrench, I was pulled bodily through the portal, into the void beyond.

Oddly enough, it led to Tescos. I bought my milk, crumpets, and went home for my tea. I heard sometime later that the lad from the lift had been rescued by firemen, which was nice, really. Took them a couple of hours, but hey, that's budget cuts for you.

The end.
( Happy Phantom has been to Hastings, Brighton, and Eastbourne too, Thu 6 May 2010, 14:30, 2 replies)

Hot Stuff
That was a killer wank, i'm drained.
( SigmaX0 Dear Die Hard. You rock!, Thu 6 May 2010, 14:40, closed)

Hahahahahaha

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 6 May 2010, 14:40, closed)