The Strength to Stand_FORK_The Final Ten_His name was Professor Alexandre Ezo Beaumont
Catalog Guide:
The Strength to Stand
It was a gray day for Carol. She was drinking warm, bitter coffee on a cold gray, rainy day. In his cold gray apartment, Looking at his window outside, She can see unfortunate people who forgot to bring their umbrellas moving faster than usual. Some took cover in the hard pouring rain that knocked like tiny needles on her pale gray window. Others who are www.onedoor.ccfortunate to bring one walk gracefully in the flowing rain, throwing bitter smiles at the people who ran frantically like a dog who lost its leash. She often enjoyed days like these quiet days where the usual roar of the engines and people t...
FORK
Jenny and I lived in Dallas and were part of a local cycling club when we were kids. I met her on the track one morning. I had helped adjust her helmet. We were both pretty regular, but I didn’t know if she wanted to be there. She would always ride slowly, and speed was a drug for me; I would slow down for her. Then she stopped cycling around the time there came an invisible pide between the boys and the girls and the girls seemed to know something that we didn’t. I had read somewhere that girls matured before boys. I ascribed her decision to quit to some understanding I hadn’t yet garnered.By...
The Final Ten
I should have asked her. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret not asking her. How was I supposed to know an atrocious vicious monster would rip her from my hands? Slow enough to leave room for hope but not slow enough for me to ask her? I couldn’t ask her, not while she was slowly being taken from life. While we sat there, in the room that imprisoned her, she gave me one final wish; no, it was a mission.“Mark,” she whispered.“Yes?” I said, fidgeting in the uncomfortably cozy blue chair across from her bed.“I want to tell you the things on my bucket list. I want you to do them for me after I--...
His name was Professor Alexandre Ezo Beaumont
The eloquence of the man was that admirable thing, like that of music that gives sudden tingles under the skin. It was beautiful, and more stunning than his face, even being more pronounced than his chin. It was romantic when he spoke, and when he did so, it was boldly and orderly. There was something in his voice that suggested aristocracy and certainly intellect. In this world, he was an espion or as is translated from that middle French Spy. This is to say that, the man was alien to this world, and had one true mission: to obtain knowledge as much of this world as he could. This knowledge, ...