What does love look like?_Haiku-dja Help Me?_The telling mirror_Don't Look Down
Catalog Guide:
What does love look like?
Jaanvi had moved to Solnit islands a week ago and the brunch was her first Saturday outing. The café had a long table at the center to enable people to mingle. Jaanvi sat next to a handsome man with blue eyes, soft hair and a toned stomach. As she sat down, he turned towards her and initiated conversation. As she reached the end of her explanation about 16th century technology with rapt attention from him, something clicked. His hand started contracting and pulsing. His eyes bulged and sprang back, deep into his head. His hair separated from his scalp and flew away, looking not very different ...
Haiku-dja Help Me?
Once upon a timeThere was a teller of talesWho lived all aloneHis home a towerBrightly lit and well-furnishedAnd chock full of booksThough given no nameHe thinks of himself as “Scribe”This name makes him smileThe Scribe is the sourceOf stories across the landBoth past and futureAll writers know himThough they may be unawareOf his influenceFrom him come ideasSent to writers old and newOn the wings of dreamsBent over his deskQuill in hand and ink nearbyThe Scribe weaves storiesThe stories we knowMyths, fables, classics, and moreCome straight from his penFrom Aesop to GrimmTo Chekhov, Wilde, and ...
The telling mirror
The mirror had grey specks that had settled after swirling in the morning sun. And a few smudges of fingers that imprinted nothing but their desperation; the same desperation that stared back at her. The morning light was now long gone and along with it any premise that today might be different.The dawww.onedoor.ccy was a monochrome of virtual meetings and emails. Everything had been accomplished by the taps of fingers that elucidated sense as they ran across letters and numbers. They didn’t seem connected to any other part of her, the words not imprinting on her synapses as they appeared on the screen. She...
Don't Look Down
Nancy Baker lived in a small city with a high crime rate. With a thriving drug trade, burglaries, and multiple assaults, Albion was the armpit of the county. It was the kind of place people locked their car doors before driving past certain neighborhoods.Nancy worked in the public school system, but budget cuts were looming, and she realized she would be looking for a new job soon. She scanned the want ads every evening for any type of work available until she found an interesting opportunity. The police department was looking for reserve officers."I wonder what they do: type a few reports, ma...