Dead! Who Me?_Gwendolyn and the Crows_The Ripper_Destroying Angel
Catalog Guide:
Dead! Who Me?
The moon was full but shrouded in a halo of clouds. If the stars were out tonight, they must have found some other part of the universe to twinkle in because there were none to be found in my sky. A stiff wind added to what was already turning into a night to forget. The only welcoming light emanated from a hangout my friends and I call The Shelter. It was time to pop in and pay a visit.I headed down the street, carefully avoiding the random circles of light given off by the streetlamps that were still working. My hearing snapped to full attention every time I heard the scurrying of feet just ...
Gwendolyn and the Crows
Skin of pale ivory and bony fingers made to hold her own heart, the girl looks a lost ghost. She haunts my house and fills the room with sobs and silence. On Sunday, her tears filled the room with salt water. The furniture began to float, and we were forced to tread water, our noses kissing the ceiling. God did not favour her. She was the unluckiest girl I ever knew. Her mother, lovely and smelling of cinnamon and sugar, spoke with a sharp tongue. It was August when thwww.onedoor.ccey found her at the bottom of Lake Marion. She was resting among the reeds with the creatures and the fish. The willow by the l...
The Ripper
[Disclaimer: this story is in no way intended to be factually correct regarding the laws surrounding death row inmates and the last meals they are served.] He is the best at what he does. Yes, he is cocky, but it has taken him more than twenty years to reach his level of expertise. That is why he was both shocked and flattered when he received that phone call that afternoon.“What?” he practically yelled into the phone. Not every chef developed the ego that Blake had, but he earned it. Years abroad, creating a reputation that other chefs would kill for, he was allowed to be rude and arrogant. A...
Destroying Angel
We live in a world of speed and noise, bobbing around like a cork on the waves, carried by the tide of love and fortune. Entering this world in a state of pure vulnerability, the simplicity of life snowballs with layer upon layer of life’s occurrences, those in our control and those which are thrust upon us. That is, until we then travel full circle back to that weakened state of vulnerability, living a simple existence; reliant upon others. The tick, tock of our mortal clock grows ever louder as we tumble towards our so called ‘golden’ years. Amelia witnessed first hand, the cruel fragility o...