One day, an old woman approached the drunken soldier.
"Oh, poor soul. I feel thy suffering."
"And you are?"
"To ease thy pain, that which you can't feign, takes but a flower for those whom you've slain."
"What!?"
He shouted at the old woman.		 An old woman approached the drunken soldier.
"What nonsense! I am not bad. They are the inferior race. It is God's will for our kind, the civilized race, to destroy the barbarians."
In his anger the soldier shot the old woman.
The soldier shot the old woman.

P.11


1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 910111213141516 1718192021222324 2526272829303132 3334353637383940 4142434445464748 4950515253545556 5758