Okay this is my first posting and I am not so certain what it is. 
So it's spam? Maybe waff? but in a cold way and there is some 
unexplored hastily passed through dark imagery. I have no idea  if 
anyone has ever posted anything like this. It just popped into my head 
last night and wouldn't stop bugging me until I wrote it AND then some 
deviant part of my mind refuses to let it go until I post it. Someone 
please send C&C or Flames or even a never post again sign.

i.e.          ____________________
              \                   \
              |    give up!       |
              |      NOW!         |
              /		          /
              ---------------------
	              |  |
                      |  |
                      |  |
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Untitled 

	He is just outside her door now.  He can hear her soft tears. 

One moment later, He's sliding himself through her cracked door 

silently. Hunched over almost falling from her seat on the bed, she 

shivers with every tear. Slowly, stealthily and desperately, he moves 

before her and with the softest touch possible encloses her right 

hand, which is almost lying on the floor.  He gently pulls her hand to 

his face. He cradles it loosing himself in the sensation of her.  The 

feeling overwhelms him, so soft; each finger almost delicate and 

smooth running together as water into a palm that once chilled is now 

very greatly heated. Then he notices the silence and stillness, no 

more sobs or shuddering from her hand. He steels himself. He believes 

his tears are something that she cannot afford to see, pushing them 

back, desperately hoping that they don't show through. He finally 

pulls his eyes upward catching them on hers. He can't see the tear 

stains on her dress or her puffy cheeks now, only her eyes. The deep 

outer brown of them worn away by the dark center from which no light 

reflects. There is no anger or sadness left only the darkness the 

empty pain. He sees it clearly and his resolve fails. As the first 

tear falls she sees it, follows it, then returns his gaze and somehow 

the darkness is diminished. Luxuriant earth tones replace the 

emptiness.  She clutches at him, pulling him from the floor and into 

her arms needing something to hold a dread assurance of reality. The 

infinite caress of her body near his is intoxicating. He knows 

something should be said something else but, he can't. His body is 

fastly held in thick ether and his tongue has no feeling. Her lips 

part ever so slightly, then she speaks. "Oh P-chan! It's not fair! How 

could they? Ranma� Ri-right in the window. They-ey even left his 

bandanna on." He remembers the butcher shop. Its window filled with 

ready to eat smoked meat. He was tempted closer and then the sight of 

a smoked piglet wearing a yellow bandanna thrust him back into his 

surroundings. Suddenly the door is slung open. Ranma falls to the 

floor by the bed as P-chan charges him and leaps. In mid-leap he is 

snatched from the air by a tremendous hug from Akane.  As Ranma slips 

out of the room Akane continues to lay her affections on her P-chan. 

He pokes his head in the door one last time and smiles before leaving. 

===============================================================

  Okay. Okay. The only time anyone's probably IC is when P-chan 

attacks Ranma. I guess that if I saw my greatest rival/friend? 

or close pet strung up and cooked I would be pretty %$^#^& up though.

            -S.G.(or some aberrant wraith that possessed him)


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