Getaway_Brains - Fifty Percent Off!_The Spynx Cat_The Con Artist
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Getaway
Jerry couldn’t wait to start the weekend. The day had been nothing but dreary mandatory meetings filled with preening people. He got nothing done. Clearing his desk, he saw his two notes from the last confab. Surrounded by doodles, filigrees, and dark underlining, he’d written an idea for a training on how ‘not to ask pointless questions which prolong meetings into eternity.’ Printed neatly beneath that, he wrote, ‘paradise = alone.’ He never made the suggestion, though. He knew it would have provoked additional pointless discussion. What a quandary. No one thought of Jerry as a ‘people pers...
Brains - Fifty Percent Off!
SALEEEEESSSSSSA garbled message chokes out of the PA system. “The go-go-government … collapse … save yours-” With its dying screech it paints a clear picture. No one is coming to save us. I hold back a gasp as they shuffle past me. Their heels scraping on the vinyl floor tiles, hands outstretched, and I pray to a god that seems to have left us. They’re on the hunt for the next victim, the next bargain. All around are the rotting replies of the consumers. SALEEEEESSSSSSWe tried to keep them out. The team barricaded the door with mannequins, their plastic body parts jammed into the handles. But...
The Spynx Cat
The Sphynx Cat You never know who you might meet...Go to elgoog Earth (there were copyright issues…) do you see that HUGE place with France, Spain, Germany etc? Good, now look at the small insignificant dot next to it (you might need a magnifying glass).Found it? Well done, you win a prize-you get to read thwww.onedoor.ccis book (some may say that it's a punishment but that’s beside the point…)for this is where our story starts. There is a boy called Tom. Tom was a good boy. He was the sort of person who would help an old lady with her shopping or help her cross the road. Tom loved cats. Correction, Tom ado...
The Con Artist
Sydney’s phone woke her up in the middle of the night. The non-stop dinging of missed messages, followed by the Sir Mix-a-Lot ringtone of “Baby Got Back” would not allow her to continue her slumber. “Why can’t they leave me alone?”, Sydney groaned as she slid out of bed. Reaching for her faux tiger fur bathrobe (a recent splurge to reward herself for the Ellen interview), Sydney gave her commands to start the day. “Alexa, play my wake-up mix”, she mumbled. A slow melody of Elvis love ballads echoed through the empty apartment, bouncing from cold marble floors to drafty beamed ceilings. “Alexa...