Johnny Webb claimed that Willingham confessed to him in prison. Photograph by Alex Garcia / Chicago Tribune
A dark, smoggy night in the middle of winter, chills were running
through the rooms of the house, like a ghost silently coming and
silently going. Suddenly, in the distance, there was a faint booming
sound like a drum being beaten. The noise soon started to get louder
and louder and louder until all that could be heard was the deafening
noise. People from houses along the street ran out in their dressing
gowns onto the road and huddled together to witness a roaring fire
devastating the house of a family living nearby. The owners of the
house desperately attempted to remove valuable and sentimental items
from the burning wreck, but all was in vain as the glaring fire
obliterated their irreplaceable possessions and their home.
The incandescent flames suddenly erupted scattering fragmented glass
and debris several yards away. The chillness of the stale, city air
was devoured by the scorching blazes of the vicious element, which had
just destroyed the lives of a victim family.
As the sun crept above the horizon, it shone vibrantly lighting up the
scenery in the countryside landscape, but the events of the previous
night had left an indentation in the surroundings of the small,
At the area of desolation, smoke continued to billow out of the rubble
and a thick deposit of ash and dust had covered the street making it
completely unrecognisable. The sky seemed as though it would release
its contents on the gloomy scene. Impenetrable, dense smog polluted
the atmosphere like a black cat creeping around the streets, but the
rain stayed where it was, like an army in a battle, time is needed for
the battle to start...
... middle of paper ...
... could be done. People
living in their snug, warm homes ran to their windows to witness
sheets of torrential rain crashing to the thick, impenetrable tarmac.
As it fell onto the ground, loud thundering noises were made like the
shattering of glass. The ground was almost groaning in grief as the
rain continuously hammered it at a huge force and settled in great
pools of motionless water.
The sun shone its rays, yet again, after many hours of thunderous
rain. The puddles had forms large pools of water and shone in the
gentle sunlight, yet the remains of the destroyed house lay there in
between two other towering houses and had been abandoned by its owners
who had left it to move on to a new place and leave their old one to
stay there in its place, solitary and pitiful as it lay in ruins on a
wet, windy winters day.
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It was an irony of fate. The carelessness of Mr. Panda caused the fire in which his neighbor's grain house was burnt.