“A journey through a magical portal”_The Curious Transformation of Orry Hunt_OTHER PEOPLE'
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“A journey through a magical portal”
During the World War 2, a family of Mackivers sends their only 12 years old son Jon Mackiver far from their country. There Jon was staying with a group of children. The owner of that house was an old man. The old man had a wife and was a bit scary. So, all the children used to fear the old lady. Jon never got along with other children. So, he used to roam here and there. One day some of the children asked Jon to play with them. Jon got a little bit surprised. But he decided to play with them. While they were playing, he accidently broke a vas, which was very dear to the old lady. He ...
The Curious Transformation of Orry Hunt
From morning until evening Orry Hunt felt a tightness in his chest. It wasn't, he determined, a heart attack. This feeling was something different. It was a tightness that gnawed inside his gut and threatened to erupt, like a stream of bile, through his throat cavity and out his mouth. But the feeling was only temporary. It lasted a moment. Still, he knew something was wrong. He felt so foreign in his dingy two-room apartment as if he didn't belong here. Unfathomable dreams haunted him until he awoke, trying to recall what they meant. After he had them, he seemed lost in a world of perpetua...
OTHER PEOPLE'S SHOES
IT started with a buzzing noise. Soft at first, and then slowly grew into an annoying loud sound - like ten thousand bees buzzing all at once. Now, not much ever bothers me, but this does. I follow the sound to the far wall of my bedroom and put my ear up close to the wall to listen. Were there really bees in the wall? If not, what else could be making that sound? Suddenly, it stops. “ok”, I think. Maybe I imagined it. Not a chance. I only trade in realiwww.onedoor.ccty. Maybe I better call the exterminator, just to be sure. But before I could do that, from out of nowhere, I am phy...
It is Spring
I frowned at my clock. It would have been frowning back, I'm sure, if it hadn't been digital and had a real face. Daylight savings. Spring forward. The bane of my existence. I loved spring, I really did, with all the plants and warmer days, but I loathed setting my clock forward. But forward I did set it, and rested the little black box on my nightstand, the red numbers mocking me even as I climbed beneath the covers and turned off my lamp. When I woke it was to the sound of my alarm clock's perpetual whining. Slapping my hand down on it with little more then a disgruntled huff, I burrowe...