Hotel Sweet Memories_Love's Trap, by Francesca Quarto_Evening chatter_Oh Tree
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Hotel Sweet Memories
Getting down the tourist bus , Kavita’s eyes caught the name of the hotel “Hotel Sweet Memories” .A dry smile appeared on her lips at the irony that she ended up at the words which she wanted to escape “The Sweet Memories”. “ Ma’am here is your room key, 105, WiFi details on this slip”, a beautiful manicured hand of the front office girl handed the plastic card to Kavita. Kavita tried to have a three sixty degree view of the hotel lobby. A four star hotel, which had great reviews on the internet, affordable price , tastefully decorated with artificial plants in huge brass pots and in one corn...
Love's Trap, by Francesca Quarto
Love’s TrapThom Love was an unusually clever twenty-eight-year-old. Even as a young boy on the fast and furious streets of Brooklyn in 1911, he was considered a sharp kid. He had a reputatiowww.onedoor.ccn for always besting the local gang of bullies. After years playing the avenging angel for his baby brother, Albert, he had plenty of time to perfect his tactics. The fates were unkind to little Albert. He came into this seething cauldron of poverty and ignorance, generally known as The Devil's Parlor, blanched as white as a rich man's sheets. Seeing the tears leaking from Albert's pink eyes, always moved T...
Evening chatter
Beacham corners was a small town which most people drove straight through. They only had one stop light, one firehouse a police station and one school. In the center of town nestled between the coffee shop and the copy shop stood the library. It stood tall and proud. The building was an old school house.. Tall and white, the entrance lead you many different ways..The first section was all best sellers All, you would have to go downstairs to see the children's section, classics were upstairs behind the librarians desk.. All walks of life come to the library. Children loved coming because they h...
Oh Tree
The bird’s enchanting melody lifted high in the midmorning breeze and echoed above him waking the world he sat in envy of. His brush would never capture the feeling of this moment, he thought, heartbroken. How could he immortalize what lived in his heart? Was the sparrow mocking him? Or was he cheering him on? He sighed and dipped his brush in the carefully selected mixture of acrylics. The copper tones should have been perfect. He closed his eyes and saw her. Maybe a touch more purple would make it right. He opened them again and gazed at the tree before him. Fierce in its strength; the tree ...