Opional Ending To The Scarlet Letter
As the late, muffled sky diminished itself, yearning for the light that filled it previously, Dimmesdale looked on. Pondering to himself whether or not he was diluted from a higher hatred, or if his independence has been brought forth by this natural metaphor. His ambiguous psychological queries nearly brought uproar to the secret anomaly imbedded in his heart, deep in his soul. His mental compass figures Panay directly in its sights. Manginess flirted with the encephalitic abnormality that caused dysfunction of rational thoughts. The genus obviously apparent: a forward straight from the hell of God. Knowing that Judgment Day had soon neared, it broached its ugly head and engulfed Dimmesdale like a pitchman, his customer, compunction, its depravity, a shackle, its unlawful ankle pinioned to a truthful reality, and all the things roared like trumpeters trumpets during the day of reckoning. So deafening, he thought he would collapse for all to see.
Unable to contain his heart that beat in his chest, he fell to his knees and prayed the loudest prayer of all. It is I, not Dimmesdale the reverenced servant of God the almighty, but Dimmesdale the sinner. Tumefy apparent, all turned to see this aberration. One of the
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