Third Person Sample
Head of Children’s Charity In Black Market Organ Trade Scandal!!!
The words were loud, glaring, resolutely unflinching; even worse was the picture accompanying the words. Tony stared down at it blankly for a moment, another moment, another still. It was amazing, he found himself thinking, absolutely amazing how these simple, blocky letters strung into a handful of words, plastered over a picture, were able to cause such trouble. Not temporary trouble, either- the kind of trouble that these words brought was long-lasting. The trouble they brought was life-changing, it was permanent.
The damage was done, and it couldn’t be undone. No matter what happened now, what was done, whatever words were spoken, the damage of these words could never be erased. The words could be run from, hidden from, banished from thought, from sight- but they would still be there. They would still be there, because the words had spread- had spread to who knows how many places, how many people. They were everywhere, and, therefore, the gravity of these words was inescapable.
It was only at the sudden sound of the approaching voices of the others that Tony was startled from his reverie. Plastering some kind of smile onto his face, he quickly crumpled the newspaper that he held in his hand; crumpled up that picture of himself and the words that went along with it.
The words were loud, glaring, resolutely unflinching; even worse was the picture accompanying the words. Tony stared down at it blankly for a moment, another moment, another still. It was amazing, he found himself thinking, absolutely amazing how these simple, blocky letters strung into a handful of words, plastered over a picture, were able to cause such trouble. Not temporary trouble, either- the kind of trouble that these words brought was long-lasting. The trouble they brought was life-changing, it was permanent.
The damage was done, and it couldn’t be undone. No matter what happened now, what was done, whatever words were spoken, the damage of these words could never be erased. The words could be run from, hidden from, banished from thought, from sight- but they would still be there. They would still be there, because the words had spread- had spread to who knows how many places, how many people. They were everywhere, and, therefore, the gravity of these words was inescapable.
It was only at the sudden sound of the approaching voices of the others that Tony was startled from his reverie. Plastering some kind of smile onto his face, he quickly crumpled the newspaper that he held in his hand; crumpled up that picture of himself and the words that went along with it.