Far Far Away_A Utopian Story_Here, There Are Ghosts_A Fiery Festive Season
Catalog Guide:
Far Far Away
Flint sat with his back pressed to the marble walls of the school. They were cold in the early morning air, but they were dry. Dew littered the grass of the garden in front of him like diamonds dropped onto emerald ribbons, but the roof above the walkway had blocked the rain from last night. A steadily approaching metronome of heeled boots made his skin prickle, but he refused to turn his head. He figured that staring at the newcomer would be awkwww.onedoor.ccward. Flint rose to his feet when she was nearly on top of him. “Good morning.” He offered bravely. “Mr Nielsen,” The woman replied with a nod. “I am ...
A Utopian Story
LoopThe sign by the large brass gate read:Welcome to YourPerfectCommunity Red Wing, Minnesota Population: 100 Cellular Number: 1-800-Per-Fect Established 2030If you have always dreamed of living the perfect life, you must come here. It is the utopia of all imagined utopias. (At this point you're probably remembering your folks telling you that no such place could ever exist). But it does exist right here in Red Wing, Minnesota. And I, Lauren Nelson, built it from the ground up.Perhaps I should start the story from the beginning. It's only fair that you understand why you would want to com...
Here, There Are Ghosts
When Nick first sees streetlights up ahead, he can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. His neck is sore, his legs are stiff, and his whole body aches with the need for a soft bed and hot coffee.The rain-soaked pavement glimmers beneath him. As the streets turn to cobblestone closer to town, starlight and streetlights meld together to cast shadows on the red brick buildings. Nick doesn’t notice any of it. He scans the town for a sign of a motel. When he finally sees a neon sign that reads, “Vacancy” in flickering red light, he almost spins out in his haste to make the sharp left.Nick rubs a ha...
A Fiery Festive Season
The tree was up, the tinsel shining as it slithered around the house. The lights twinkled, as bright as fairies. The new baubles glistening like tear drops, iridescent in their unusual bright blue hue. The music played softly around her, as she drank her coffee. For once, she was actually looking forward to Christmas, Stella thought, as she chatted to her daughter Astra. Astra had made the coffee, and given her some wonderful gifts; that Mozart CD she had wanted, some chocolates, a book of Homers poetry, and a scarf with giraffes on. Eric wasn’t up yet, but he was always in bed these days. She...