Mr. Watson sat there in his happy little garden, in his happy little life, on his happy little bench. I’m sorry to say that this is not how his life went on. Pity. A crystal whipped by his ear and dropped to palm, it was bleeding.
Since then the skin had never healed, he examined it in his lab and couldn’t find out what it was,
“ARRrrh!!” He screeched, his body dropped to the the floor and blood spilled and slided down his cheek. All he could see was blood. He had died of course, but his shadow had not…