I once found a book in the attic,it seemed like an ancient artifact,it was so old. I dont know why I noticed it, the cover wasn’t really appealing, but I had a feeling this book was different and I could relate.

I sat down and began to read. The book was about an Private investigator solving a crime of murder, smuggling, and adultery. I knew what murder was, but I didnt know what the other two were, untill I read the book that is. I finished it in a few hours, give or take, but I couldnt tell without my watch.

I ran and looked in the dictionary, but neither of the words were there. Come to think of it the word murder was never used either, and if words like die, kill,dead, ect. were used anyone who heard shot you a look of disgust and suspicion.

I once saw that happen to my Uncle, he said it and the room turned silent, icy glares were shot at him. That was right before he went to a “better” place.

I went downstairs and asked my mom why I never heard about adultery or smuggling.Now I wish I hadn’t.