To Endless Love and Laughter_The Porch_Mrs Dalrymple_Accused
Catalog Guide:
To Endless Love and Laughter
A bouncy breeze integrated with saline drizzle sprayed across, as I hovered upon the brim of the motorboat I was sailing. I hung about scrutinizing the sharp tip gash its way through the foamy waves to sail smoothly across the sea, which bore resemblance to a boundless turquoise carpet. Except this carpet on no account attracts movie stars or media, but horde of all sorts of aquatic species that rely on their natural habitat. I leapt over the dock and extended a gangly hand nabbing my hat at the nick of time, the wind had sent flapping away.It's that time of year when tourists flock on the por...
The Porch
Annabella Conner sat with knees drawn up to her chest on that old porch, sagging and beat up from years gone by. The same porch she must've painted a hundred times over with that thick, creamy white stale-smelling paint; the same porch that she used to sit on with her brother during those hot summer afternoons, sipping bitter lemonade made from stolen lemons. She wanted those days back, so very badly; she wanted to spend hours in beautiful, perfect silence on that porch. She wanted a way to fix her life that had spiraled down and down, out of her control, leaving her abandoned and dilapidated,...
Mrs Dalrymple
The sun blazed at its zenith, so hot even the shadows couldn't come out to play.From the shade, the young man had the vantage of the remote periphery of town, of steamy wisps rising into the fiery firmament, and of the deserted streets, and motionless trees.It was a lethargic day.Suddenly, a haze of swirling dust cut across the highway into the bushes on the side, spiralling further away. Thunder cracked in the distance, and lightning streaked across the road, as a car burst out of a straying cloud and set its wheels on the road amid the squeal of tyres and the rise of leaden smoke. A car of a...
Accused
“Hey Vinny, get your head outta your butt and catch the ball next time.” I yelled.“Oh yeah, how bout ya put a throw on my chest, Joey!”Vinny and I played baseball every Sunday in the lot beside the middle school. Sure, there were only two of us, but our imaginations placed all-time greats like Babe Ruth and Shoeless Joe Jackson on the weed infested diamond. “Hey whadda ya say we do a homerun derby?”“Joey, you know I’d kick your butt and you’d pout the rest of the day.”Itwww.onedoor.cc was on. I grabbed a stolen hair pin from my backpack and jogged over to the equipment shed down the third base line. The equ...