Call to Fight_Resetting the Clock_Rules Are There For A Reason_One Day
Catalog Guide:
Call to Fight
Now I couldn't just hear the calls of battle. But I could feel them, smell them, see them. The feel of the ground vibrating as people ran, jumped, and fell. It had been like the ground was coming to life. It felt like it was moving. It felt like it was being torn apart, and about to split in half. It had felt like if it did break open it would have swallowed me whole. I could recall the smell of sweat, dirt, and blood. I could recall the smell the grass that was being torn under thousands of feet and hooves. And in some areas, I swore i could still smell bile as someone had sicked up. And I co...
Resetting the Clock
Resetting the Clock This damned inventory count took two entire business weeks—would you believe it? Two whole weeks. I think I am totally surrounded by incompetent fools. I have a good mind to fire them all and start over from scratch.After extracting myself from this den of stupidity I have to claw my way through this insane LA freeway traffic, after stopping at my favorite bar for a quick one to drown out the day of course. Then I exit into my suburban neighborhood.Oh no! I forgot! It is Halloween ...
Rules Are There For A Reason
Our examination of the 6 worlds was supposed to be incognito. Our space wheel had reflective technology which cloaked our little home away from home so that we could watch. We were there to secretly monitor the election of the Grand Leader of the Six Worlds, an election that is supposed to occur every 7 years.I was the Commander of that mission: My name is Tom Durfee. With me were my Communications officer Sam Oliver, Staff Lieutenants Martha Bachman and Sally Carty and our morale officer, Satchewon Pillingly.The event that jeopardized our mission came about in stages: The first night, some of...
One Day
Three dollars and five cents ,was all that you had in your pocket but it was enough to make your day, the exact price of your favourite coffee from the local café just a few blocks from your apartment. You headed there, clenching onto the money, full of excitement. Walking on that winter morning with your foggy glasses and your face muzzled deep into your scarf to protect you from the cold, was the same as any other morning. Holding firmly onto your journal in your other hand, that seemed like it was the place where you wrote about every second of your life as if documenting iwww.onedoor.cct for someone to...