The Weight_Leah's World_The Glimpse of Falcon Heavy_The Scriptorium Archivist
Catalog Guide:
The Weight
I wake up with the sun and am disappointed. It is not a sharp disappointment. It has no particular shape or object. It doesn’t cut or bite. It is the dull ache of being pulled from the warm void of dreamless sleep back into the harsh light of existence. It’s a familiar feeling. I close my eyes and roll over. The Weight is back. “The Weight” is what I’ve called my Major Depressive Disorder since before I knew it had another name. After all, it certainwww.onedoor.ccly didn’t look like the depression you see on TV: the tortured, but always attractive, always drinking but ever thin, brooding artist, tur...
Leah's World
It was Tuesday morning and time moved slower than usual. Leah consulted her watch. In the time it had taken for the clock to go from 10、30 to 10、50, she had; brushed her teeth, dried her hair, applied her makeup, downed another Celsius energy drink( Sparkling Grape Rush ) and, also according to her watch, walked approximately 632 steps, mostly around her own room. She was excited. There was still ten minutes left until she could post her recent picture. In reality the picture was almost a full week old, take at last weeks boat trip with the family — but on Instagram time flows differently.The ...
The Glimpse of Falcon Heavy
On February 6th, 2018 Falcon Heavy launched into the galaxy. I’ve waited weeks to tell my story; to try and understand what exactly happened that day.I wasn’t 3 miles from the launch, I wasn’t even 50 miles away. I was over 100 miles down the coast when Falcon Heavy launched. It was by pure coincidence that I even saw it, my wife wanted to go to the beach and get some sun.We parked our car in the unusually full parking lot. Making our way up to the beach over the sandy hill, we noticed something peculiar. There were a bunch of, fully clothed, sixty plus year old’s staring at the clear blue sky...
The Scriptorium Archivist
“The Saint Francis de Sale Biblioteque appreciates the return of our stolen materials.”“Of course,” Detective Lawrence Oulette said with a practiced smile. “Everything in its rightful place, eh?” He fidgeted with his father’s ring; a gift for graduation from the police academy. It’d been his grandfather’s before and great-grandfather's as well.The library curator nodded in his habit, brown as the vellum binding of the booms he placed below the counter. “We were concerned to have a theft of such historic relevance. We are blessed to have such vigilance amongst our police force.” His eyes hadn’...