Wednesday, December 5, 2012

chapter 8

Before I leave my friend on the jet , let us speak of one of the first times I knowingly met him . It was in July or August 1986 . There he was on the boardwalk in beautiful downtown Halifax , Nova Scotia . He approaches me and says : "are you Steven Strang ???" I reply : "No , Steven is my brother". He says : "yea , Steven died in a hunting accident". And guess what ??? That September my brother dies in a hunting accident .

Now , it might help to increase the mystery of this story if I add the fact that I never had seen this fellow before in my life-in this form anyway . He was a complete stranger and he had no reason to approach me at all . Fuck , I look nothing like my brother . 

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