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The Angel of the Odd By Edgar Allan Poe
It was a chilly November night. I was sitting in the dining room after supper around five o'clock .
I think i'll read the paper before I have my appointment.
I found a story of a person who died today. He was blowing on a blow dart, and suck in his breath and the needle went through his neck.
That is enough reading for today. It was only 5:30 and my appointment isn't until 6. I'll have time to take my nap.
What is that sound that I just heard? "Mein Gott, den, vat a vool you bess for dat!"
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