Something is going on_Riverman_Fifty Broken Voicemails_Becoming a Guardian
Catalog Guide:
Something is going on
CW: sexually suggestive language, mild domestic viwww.onedoor.ccolenceThe baby was making noises off and on. Marie heard it dimly, half awake. She moved to sit up and then fell back with a thump. Cassy was talking, babbling softly. Not crying. She would go back to sleep.A black wave hit Marie’s face and crested over her brow, pulling her back into sleep.***She heard a cry in the distance as she sat at the table. Yellow and hard plastic. School tables outside in the quad for lunch. Cement floor. Gray trays with plates and cardboard milk. It was pizza day. It got grease all down your palm. It dripped down her...
Riverman
The Riverman had lived on the shores of the river all his life.He knew about the bird life that existed in the surrounding forests. How they mated and how they cared for and fed their young. He knew about the life cycle of the trout that his father had so loved to fish for.He could sit for hours and watch his father move his trout rod back and forth in the air and then gently let the line stretch across the water, tempting the trout to come after the flies that they had patiently tied the night before. Great discussion went into what the weather was going to be like tomorrow because that would...
Fifty Broken Voicemails
The phone rings.And rings.And rings. I still my tapping foot and keep count. Five. Six. Seven.“You’ve reached Theodore Tiller. Sorry I wasn’t able to take your call. Leave your number and a message, and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”Even over voicemail, even after the hundredth time I’ve heard those exact same words, his voice never fails to make my breath come just a little quicker.The phone beeps and I take a deep breath. I already have my message for him prepared.“Theo, please. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but just call me back. I…there’s so much I need to tell you and I can’...
Becoming a Guardian
I didn't notice the creature at first when I awoke. The morning started like any other: the rustle of leaves, the patter of feet down the road, a blanket of fog nestling the town in a soft aura. I still didn't notice it as I headed out from under Mrs. Gallahan's porch. It had proven to be a cozy resting spot for several months now. It kept me dry and was a fine spot for mouse-catching."Good morning, Edgar." Mrs. Gallahan came down and scratched behind my ears. I leaned into it with a purr. "Here you are." She set down a plate with cat food which I scarfed down. After I'd polished it off, Mrs....