" So. I screwed up my own suicide and they've put me in this museum of an institution. But whatthefuck have they done to my body? Is it hallucinatory ...rugs?" I wondered. "Or could they be using me for some sort of experimental body transplant?" The ideas kept running through my mind, growing wilder and crazier.Finally, I decided that this must be hell. I mean, deep down inside, I knew it was still me. Phil Brown. Fifty-six year old loser. And I had always heard that people who commit suicide. Once I finished, I moved on to the next tree. I repeated these steps until I had eighteen sections of trunk and five piles of limbs. It had taken me six hours to complete the job.I collected my tools and stuck them under the rope of two bundles, before picking the bundles up, putting them into the back of the wagon. I then grabbed the other three and placed them inside as well. Securing the bundles and the tools to the side walls before dealing with the logs. I would need the ramp boards for. She had a pretty good body too she has an average figure, the clothes she wore showed it off as well in that tight pink tanktop that hugged her body and those small black PJ shorts. She smiled at me and gave me a silly wave as usual I waved back of course she was a silly fun girl as for my older sister Emily she wasn't that fun she was more serious. She was 17 5'5 she's a stuck up straight A student, like Lexi she had a great body but Emily had wider hips and bigger breasts maybe a high C not. Ken Smith of building services and John Jenkins, Chairman of the board sat in on the interview. To say I was impressed was an understatement. He had credentials above and beyond anything we would need here.He was certified by the NRC as a construction supervisor and project auditor inside the dome of a nuclear power plant and by the Interior Department for hydroelectric projects. He had even been the construction supervisor for a skyscraper in Hong Kong.He found error after error in the blue.