A Russian Commander Thinks He’s About To Hang Me. Am I Dead Or Alive ?

I’d been one of the lucky ones. I missed a bullet by a margin. On doing a run to grab a loaf of bread. One Russian dude caught me in a net. He threw a huge fishing net right over my head.

Staring into my eyes with his evil red eyes. Communism’s curse was written all over his face. I screamed out distressed. Then, he lashed his right fist into my eyes muttering in Russian swear words. I was trapped under his evil wrath. I played his game pretending I was in much more pain than I truly was. Decrepid sick fools are easy to play blind man’s buff with. They’re hardly off their mothers apron string’s. Sadly, many young Russian soilders were filled with bullshit from all the president’s men.

A Russian soilder steps around my flesh. He grabs my long hair dragging me along muddy stoney ground to a ditch full of freshly murdered smelly dead Ukrainian corpses. A wooden stand with a hanging rope where they’d been hung for pleasure. If they were only half dead. It was during one of the many recent Russian late night party games. Pleasure for pain was the drill. Bodies still dripping with fresh blood of last nights pleasures. They had no qualms whether the hanging victims were male or female. Then, they photographed each hanging human. The torturously sick soilders sent everything to Rasputin the current Russian president. He’s reincarnated from the dead. See the song.The devilish soilders, now also starving while out on hunting ground for more Ukrainian victims.The main aim of their torturous propaganda ; - is to keep Rasputin amused. As for their own tribes dead or wounded. They are carted back to Moscow first class on The Orient Express to be buried in style. I surmise that our current head of state, Rasputin, now in charge. He, will have a heavy bill at the funeral parlours in Moscow. Or, will he add it to his forgeries? For now it’s a safe bet. By the way the world famous train, The Orient Express was off duty from run of the mill tourists. Travel agents spilling beans out of their dull hungry sales phone calls. Travel agency administrators tried to zoom in on opportunities. Breathing up hot air full of tobacco. They’d hidden it under a desk. Down, going down under tables of communists weak edged packed pockets full of every addictive substance or pharmaceutical pill one could swallow to keep going on Ukrainian territory. No need for Viagra though. Ukrainian beauties are a turn on without popping pills.

Lo and behold rich Russians with packed wallets can’t really hide mistresses on yachts anymore. They’re hooked up by the Italians terrain now. I guess, either a backward priest with two faces. Or maybe an Italian gangster in disguise left over from mafiosa burnt tracks down south will be open to out looking for new adventures in crime.

Going into Oriental compartments. Entrepreneurs wearing shady sunglasses. Or big men swimming in private pools in air conditioned penthouses. They all got pins and needles now, as dear Mother Nature keeps breathing out storms towards necks of the woods. The Russians have other things on their mind. The train;- The Orient Express is now being used to carry brainwashed dead men back to Moscow. Maintaining an illusion to brain washed Russian citizens, The Russian spies obviously think they now have the claim of the Silk Road inside a new third eye. T’s always been a route for silkworms, plus other golden spinning thread. The Silk Road. Why do you think that Rasputin ? The greatest reincarnation of the wildest villain on the Russian block is waltzing amongst gold posted bedrooms with red curtains? Will histories memorandum of evil villains be reincarnated again ? In all due respect, it boils my blood even as I’m about to fake my death right now.

In the moment ;- the Russian geezer standing over me right now still thinks In his trousers. By the way, that’s an old polish proverb just for the record. Think on this, even when on believing he’s about to hang me alive. He telephones his mistress, not his wife. Interesting thinking from a physciatrists perspective. Not that I’ve got my degree in that subject, but feel like I darn well do. The amount of weirdos I’ve bumped into on the dance floor. A sadists mindset about to kill. Poor mistress. Lucky for his wife that he’s got a darn mistress. Imagine, he phones his mistress to seduce her on the phone in almost perfect timing to when he is about to pull the string around my neck to kill me. Thoughts to think on over your morning coffee break.

Action :- Remember I’m about to be hung now by the guy opposite me on the phone. See you soon after he’s pulled the rope. I love playing dead or alive.

Yvette Louise Melech

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