Broken Nose_Her Demons_On Writing_Lifes Lines
Catalog Guide:
Broken Nose
Through his shoes and into his knees, Jamie felt his skateboard vibrate as he slid across the top of a park bench in Greenhill Park. Upon landing, he turned against the grain of the asphalt, powersliding to a stop. “Yes!” he said. He removed his helmet, swooped his hair out of his face, and smiled. Jamie had been trying to land a railslide all summer without totally wrecking himself. Jamie looked ahead, just beyond the park, to Mr. Winwood’s house. In a neighborhood bridled by yellow and tan homes, Mr. Winwood’s dark mahogany haunt defied convention. Mr. Winwood probably got a nasty-gram or tw...
Her Demons
She told me she had demons. “We all have demons,” I told her.“Hmm,” she said. She looked at me for a long time without speaking. Until I felt uncomfortable. It’s hard to be looked at for a long time. Especially by someone you don’t know. But I didn’t move. I stayed there and got looked at and, I suppose, I looked back at her too. But it wasn’t the same. I looked away and looked www.onedoor.ccback and looked down and looked back. She just looked.She had long curly dark hair and a small mole above her lip on the left. She reminded me of someone from a music video I’d seen recently on one of those retro shows,...
On Writing
He’s at it again. Bursting guitar riffs, booming of drums, and throaty shrills echoed throughout the house. He’s writing.Every afternoon, her husband locks himself in his study, entering a world different from his life. His chosen songs make you think that he writes horror and thriller - because he does. He’s an international bestselling author, his publisher’s best brand. He produces two books a year, and he did it religiously for the past five years. But he’s also a father, living in a grand, spacious house, with three children and two dogs.Kitchen tools and utensils jiggled with the sound o...
Lifes Lines
Maggie pauses as the cleansing pad skims the side of her face. Once thin lines had sucked in the life-changing events and expanded. Her finger touches the grooves, and she’s grateful her world is on the mend. Any extra additions and bags would be needed for storage. “Damn!” she says and flips the mirror. “That’s better.” Now those lines are back to being the ornate anchors holding her skin in check, keeping her eyes open and allowing the mess that occurred to remain visible. The permanent reminder of the betrayal endured propels her. Although David’s departure was a glorious thing, she’ll nev...