Elliot Hetts-~-Abortion Jailer-?

Elliot Hetts is British, he is from Sunderland and has the accent. He is 6”2, weighs 173 pounds, and has short but very thick and very dark brown hair (basically black), angular jawline and sharp nosed.

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I haven't bailed on writing. Look, I'm generating a random paragraph at this very moment in an attempt to get my writing back on track. I am making an effort. I will start writing consistently again! He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a sip of the drink. He had tasted this before, but he couldn't quite remember the time and place it had happened. He desperately searched his mind trying to locate and remember where he had tasted this when the bicycle ran over his foot. I love the feel of wood curls flying off the lathe as I begin to shape the log in front of me. The sound of scraping changes based on the wetness of the wood, the speed at which the lathe is turning, and the type of cut I am making. The smell and feel of wet wood being turned are unique. The water is sprayed out as I cut through the different layers of wood. A log can turn into anything one's imagination can think of with the right set of hands-on tools. I have those hands and imagination. I use all of my senses and intuition to create a beautiful object. That is why I enjoy turning wood. Devon couldn't figure out the color of her eyes. He initially would have guessed that they were green, but the more he looked at them he almost wanted to say they were a golden yellow. Then there were the flashes of red and orange that seemed to be streaked throughout them. It was almost as if her eyes were made of opal with the sun constantly glinting off of them and bringing out more color. They were definitely the most unusual pair of eyes he'd ever seen. Nobody really understood Kevin. It wasn't that he was super strange or difficult. It was more that there wasn't enough there that anyone wanted to take the time to understand him. This was a shame as Kevin had many of the answers to the important questions most people who knew him had. It was even more of a shame that they'd refuse to listen even if Kevin offered to give them the answers. So, Kevin remained silent, misunderstood, and kept those important answers to life to himself. Do you think you're living an ordinary life? You are so mistaken it's difficult to even explain. The mere fact that you exist makes you extraordinary. The odds of you existing are less than winning the lottery, but here you are. Are you going to let this extraordinary opportunity pass? The lone lamp post of the one-street town flickered, not quite dead but definitely on its way out. Suitcase by her side, she paid no heed to the light, the street or the town. A car was coming down the street and with her arm outstretched and thumb in the air, she had a plan. Barbara had been waiting at the table for twenty minutes. it had been twenty long and excruciating minutes. David had promised that he would be on time today. He never was, but he had promised this one time. She had made him repeat the promise multiple times over the last week until she'd believed his promise. Now she was paying the price. It had been her dream for years but Dana had failed to take any action toward making it come true. There had always been a good excuse to delay or prioritize another project. As she woke, she realized she was once again at a crossroads. Would it be another excuse or would she finally find the courage to pursue her dream? Dana rose and took her first step. My pincher collar is snapped on. Then comes the electric zapper collar. Finally, my purple at-home collar is taken off and I know I’m going for a walk to the dog park. I’m so excited to see my friends. I hope Spike or Thunder are there already. They're the most fun to chase and tumble with. My human is pretty strict with me. I’m only allowed on the grass and not on the sidewalks. I think she’s afraid I’m going to jump on the other humans. I don’t understand why everyone else gets to jump on the benches and run wild on the sidewalks. They don’t listen to their humans. I know I could ignore mine but if I do she may zap me and it’s just not worth it. She probably wouldn’t let me back at the dog park if I didn’t listen to her. I just love the dog park. Her hand was balled into a fist with her keys protruding out from between her fingers. This was the weapon her father had shown her how to make when she walked alone to her car after work. She wished that she had something a little more potent than keys between her fingers. It would have been nice to have some mace or pepper spray. He had been meaning to buy some but had never gotten around to it. As the mother bear took another step forward with her cubs in tow, she knew her fist with keys wasn't going to be an adequate defense for this situation. Ten more steps. If he could take ten more steps it would be over, but his legs wouldn't move. He tried to will them to work, but they wouldn't listen to his brain. Ten more steps and it would be over but it didn't appear he would be able to do it. It wasn't that he hated her. It was simply that he didn't like her much. It was difficult for him to explain this to her, and even more difficult for her to truly understand. She was in love and wanted him to feel the same way. He didn't, and no matter how he tried to explain to her she refused to listen or to understand. Lori lived her life through the lens of a camera. She never realized this until this very moment as she scrolled through thousands of images on your computer. She could remember the exact moment each photo was taken. She could remember where she had been, what she was thinking as she tried to get the shot, the smells of the surrounding area, and even the emotions that she felt taking the photo, yet she had trouble remembering what she had for breakfast. She had been an angel for coming up on 10 years and in all that time nobody had told her this was possible. The fact that it could ever happen never even entered her mind. Yet there she stood, with the undeniable evidence sitting on the ground before her. Angels could lose their wings. She sat in the darkened room waiting. It was now a standoff. He had the power to put her in the room, but not the power to make her repent. It wasn't fair and no matter how long she had to endure the darkness, she wouldn't change her attitude. At three years old, Sandy's stubborn personality had already bloomed into full view. Frank knew there was a correct time and place to reveal his secret and this wasn't it. The issue was that the secret might be revealed despite his best attempt to keep it from coming out. At this point, it was out of his control and completely dependant on those around him who also knew the secret. They wouldn't purposely reveal it, or at least he believed that, but they could easily inadvertently expose it. It was going to be a long hour as he nervously eyed everyone around the table hoping they would keep their mouths shut. It had become a far too common an event in her life. She has specifically placed the key to the box in a special place so that she wouldn't lose it and know exactly where it was when the key was needed. Now that she needed to open the box, she had absolutely no idea where that special spot she placed the key might be. I guess we could discuss the implications of the phrase "meant to be." That is if we wanted to drown ourselves in a sea of backwardly referential semantics and other mumbo-jumbo. Maybe such a discussion would result in the determination that "meant to be" is exactly as meaningless a phrase as it seems to be, and that none of us is actually meant to be doing anything at all. But that's my existential underpants underpinnings showing. It's the way the cookie crumbles. And now I want a cookie. Turning away from the ledge, he started slowly down the mountain, deciding that he would, that very night, satisfy his curiosity about the man-house. In the meantime, he would go down into the canyon and get a cool drink, after which he would visit some berry patches just over the ridge, and explore among the foothills a bit before his nap-time, which always came just after the sun had walked past the middle of the sky. At that period of the day the sun’s warm rays seemed to cast a sleepy spell over the silent mountainside, so all of the animals, with one accord, had decided it should be the hour for their mid-day sleep. Then came the night of the first falling star. It was seen early in the morning, rushing over Winchester eastward, a line of flame high in the atmosphere. Hundreds must have seen it and taken it for an ordinary falling star. It seemed that it fell to earth about one hundred miles east of him. There wasn't a whole lot more that could be done. It had become a wait-and-see situation with the final results no longer in her control. That didn't stop her from trying to control the situation. She demanded that things be done as she desperately tried to control what couldn't be. Puppies are soft, cute, funny, and make a big mess. Every month or two our family fosters 6-12 week old puppies for a puppy rescue nonprofit organization. We all enjoy cuddling their furry bodies after a clean bath. Fresh puppy smell is great. The puppies play with each other and our adult dog. They look so funny when they lay on top of each other and sleep. While puppies can be great fun, they also can make big messes. 4-6 puppies can make a lot of puppy pee and poop. It's a challenge to keep the puppies and the puppy pen clean. There was a time when he would have embraced the change that was coming. In his youth, he sought adventure and the unknown, but that had been years ago. He wished he could go back and learn to find the excitement that came with change but it was useless. That curiosity had long left him to where he had come to loathe anything that put him out of his comfort zone. She needed glasses. It wasn't that she couldn't see without them, but what she could see with them. When she wore glasses, her eyes focused so deeply that she could see not only the physical but also beyond. It was like a superpower. But she needed glasses. It was going to rain. The weather forecast didn't say that, but the steel plate in his hip did. He had learned over the years to trust his hip over the weatherman. It was going to rain, so he better get outside and prepare. Her breath exited her mouth in big puffs as if she were smoking a cigarette. The morning dew had made her clothes damp and she shivered from the chill in the air. There was only one thing that could get her up and out this early in the morning. The spot was perfect for camouflage. At least that's what she thought when she picked the spot. She couldn't imagine that anyone would ever be able to see her in these surroundings. So there she sat, confident that she was hidden from the world and safe from danger. Unfortunately, she had not anticipated that others may be looking upon her from other angles, and now they were stealthily descending toward her hiding spot. The blinking light caught her attention. She thought about it a bit and couldn't remember ever noticing it before. That was strange since it was obvious the flashing light had been there for years. Now she wondered how she missed it for that amount of time and what other things in her small town she had failed to notice. All he could think about was how it would all end. There was still a bit of uncertainty in the equation, but the basics were there for anyone to see. No matter how much he tried to see the positive, it wasn't anywhere to be seen. The end was coming and it wasn't going to be pretty. Cake or pie? I can tell a lot about you by which one you pick. It may seem silly, but cake people and pie people are really different. I know which one I hope you are, but that's not for me to decide. So, what is it? Cake or pie? He hid under the covers hoping that nobody would notice him there. It really didn't make much sense since it would be obvious to anyone who walked into the room there was someone hiding there, but he still held out hope. He heard footsteps coming down the hall and stop in front in front of the bedroom door. He heard the squeak of the door hinges and someone opened the bedroom door. He held his breath waiting for whoever was about to discover him, but they never did. The computer wouldn't start. She banged on the side and tried again. Nothing. She lifted it up and dropped it to the table. Still nothing. She banged her closed fist against the top. It was at this moment she saw the irony of trying to fix the machine with violence.

He speaks very literally, and he does not use any kind of metaphors, similes, or white lies.

He is well educated and well spoken. He went to Oxford university and studied poetry, and the circulatory system. He wanted to be a doctor, but got rejected after a bout of depression following his mother Vera’s death, but his depression is over now.

He owns one nice estate house, and also owns a dilapidated black wood rotting shed in the field of shoulder high reeds because it’s passed on from his grandfather and nobody every wanted to buy it off him.