Call Me Raven_The Girl in the Pool_Patient X_'History Repeating Itself '.
Catalog Guide:
Call Me Raven
King Toliver Nesbitt flashes his million-dollar caps and wiggles his bushy eyebrows at Chancellor Manville Dubois, a sure sign the monarch will try to coerce Manville into doing the impossible.“I’m looking forward to seeing Queen Estwww.onedoor.ccher,” King Toliver says.“How is the queen feeling these days?” Manville asks. Distinguished, yet unassuming, Chancellor Dubois’s lanky build, fluffy brown hair, and glasses make him look more like a college professor than Andorra’s most accomplished diplomat.“She’s fragile. I can’t thank you enough for coming up with the idea of moving her to our second home in Ca...
The Girl in the Pool
Ripples spread across the surface of the pool, fracturing the reflection that he was trying to photograph, and Joe shook his head in annoyance. There was no wind, so he guessed that the disturbance was caused some small aquatic animal, a beaver or an otter or even a large rat. The ripples had spoiled his plan to take photographs of the sunset reflected in the pool, but maybe he could get a wildlife shot.The pool was isolated, hidden in a small corner of a wild area. There was a small jetty which had seen better days, but still seemed to be serviceable. Dark willows shadowed one side of the poo...
Patient X
Patient XThe siren floated just above the whispers and groans of patients waiting to be treated. It was just a flutter and based upon the cycles Milton knew he had time to message his latest crush before it arrived. Maybe move from virtual sex to something that might leave a mark.Busy day,” he wrote. “But it’s how I save lives. Meet tonight?”He pushed aside the files of unprocessed claims and admissions and wiped a bare forearm across the surface of his desk. He opened a new file on his computer screen, set the cursor to Line One, Question One, “Payment type,” and waited.A medical team stood ...
'History Repeating Itself '.
I sat there listening to the open air, the sound of history repeating as I looked on into the light-filled street. Then, finally, I see the future visions, one that resembles the past. My past was never easy. It was always rocky, but as I look on through the once darkened street, I see myself in the reflection of the road Mirror is something I do not want to know as it reminds me of my past. The nastiness of it, the cruelness of it. What is it that is so frustrating about history? Is it the fact that I could never relive it? Or the fact that the voices in my head were authentic and causing me...