Concerns, yours and mine_Mirror Image_The Ice Days_So Many Books
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Concerns, yours and mine
"The population of migers is dwindling fast!" exclaimed John as he sat reading his Sunday newspaper in his armchair."Yes. I saw a news report on TV a few days ago about migers" added Jane as she continued with her household chores."I think the government should declare miger as an endangered species" mumbled John, stretching his back and arms. Nowadays sitting in the armchair for long caused some stiffness in his body. "I think I must replace this armchair"."Or your back" said Jane with a giggle, "you are getting old"."Fifty is not 'old', old woman!" John retorted with mock irrigation in his v...
Mirror Image
I suppose, like most people, I have mixed feelings about library book sales, or the discards table, or whatever. A strict voice tells me that it absolutely isn’t right to sell off a perfectly good hardback copy of a book that originally cost over £10 for 50p just because there’s a bit torn off the corner of page 27, or a naughty child (or adult!) has scribbled a bit on page 153、 By the way, don’t read any especial significance into these numbers. They’re not like 42 from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, or 73 from The Big Bang Theory. Theywww.onedoor.cc’re just random, though it has dawned on me that t...
The Ice Days
When the sun disappeared, so did we. I wish I could have told my mother goodbye. I wish I could have seen this coming in some sort of spiritual prophecy. But truth be told, no one saw it coming. Not even god.Sometime last June the cold set in. I don’t exactly remember what day, because all days became non-essential. I’m not even sure if calling it a day, is proper terminology anymore. The sun left us to the cold bitterling of the moon. I used to live in California, a place where it never snowed. Now our houses are twenty feet under, and it’s still coming down.The stores used to be packed...
So Many Books
So Many Books By Ted HarrisonHe reached for the door knob, but jerked his hand back. The bite of the sleet and freezing rain hit his knuckles like an electric shock. He remembered when he had been run off from here twice before. The dark green door was lit up by a brass lamp hanging from the arched doorway. Light, but no warmth. Rubbing the stinging fingers on his poncho, he knocked on the door and stepped back down the three steps onto the sidewalk. Waited.The plastic poncho crackled when he moved. Adding to that the sounds of the December storm he made a lot of noise even standing ...