Cold Shiver_Endy Mendy_Book talk_The Sleepy Clcok
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Cold Shiver
TW: murder Cold ShiverBy Heather Ann MartinezBecky’s Diner was the only place to grab food for more than twenty miles along Route 55、 Linus Stillman had been frequenting Becky’s for the majority of the past twenty-five years. It was where he met his wife. It was where he met his birth brother and birth father. It was where he went to when he lost his sales job, when he picked up another and where he felt most at home spring through autumn. Every November, he disappeared from his daily routines. He would emerge the last week of March as if nothing happened. For several weeks out of every year, ...
Endy Mendy
What if I told you there was a demon devoted to the broken hearted?What if I told you that this isn't some fairy tale with monsters and villains, but a very real, breathing creation that is as old as time itself? This creature's sole existence revolves around targeting the broken-hearted, and trying in his own twisted way to mend them.He only targets adults and leaves children well alone. He has no business cavorting with the realm of childish creations. This creature visits nearly all adults and leaves his mark on them.This creature's name, is Endy Mendy.Endy Mendy is a demon, let me tell you...
Book talk
The sun is slowly setting, while I am moving at the speed of light. The book I need for tomorrow’s test can only be found in one library: the one across campus. Ten minutes till it closes and I still have to look for the book. I’ll be there in five, I hope ... The librarian looks at me with that familiar look of hers; she knows me and knows that I am not the most organised person in the world, unlike her. “Normally, I would have the book ready for you Jenny, but not this time. This time you can look for it yourself,” she says. “Sorry, I’m so late, but I almost forgot about this test, and …” I’...
The Sleepy Clcok
Tic, Tic Tic, Tic. The granular sound of each second passing was constant. Laying on the unkempt sofa, dreaming of summer days when I was younger; I had my eyes closed to the world. Tic, Tic, Tic. The sombre rattlings of an old clock pierced my ears with the passing of each moment. My time, however, waswww.onedoor.cc being spent in my imaginings. The playful, days I spent at the creek, or simply rolling down what I thought at the time was a massive hill. Going back years later, I realized the hill was nothing but a pile of dirt; only as high as I am now. Tic, Tic. The striking of the second hand from my old...