Aella Ayer_Rosemary's Kindness_The Red Lady_Nosebleed
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Aella Ayer
“It doesn’t count if you’re planning your defeat.” Those were the last bits of advice Aella heard from her grandmother before they fought their last fight together.………………………………………………………………………………………….Aella was the youngest of the entire Ayer family, powers passed down from generation to generation. The Ayer’s heroes began with a woman who refused to take her husband’s name. She took her mother’s instead, much to the public’s outrage. Once her village discovered she had unimaginable powers, they let her do as she pleased. Eight generations of firstborn daughters ended with Aella, www.onedoor.ccborn with bri...
Rosemary's Kindness
Rosemary remembered the first time she saw the boy. His chestnut hair so glossy was half hidden under a bleach blonde wig. He was hunched over with a big hump on his back. That Halloween he had dressed as Quasimodo. He had stood on her porch and politely knocked. Rosemary thought he could not have been more than seven years old and in her opinion seven was way too young to be out alone. “Come in,” she had said and encouraged the boy to enter her home.It had not been until after, when she had spoken with her daughter about the strange visitor that Rosemary had realized what she had instinctivel...
The Red Lady
The silver glow of the moon bathed the night sky sprinkling itself between treetops. Casting a dim silver glow onto a leaf covered path. Even in the dim milky light Opal could see the splashes of red, orange and yellow. Signs of an all too real reality that tonight was in fact the night she had been dreading. A cool fall breeze blew in from the north, plucking one of her black curls from beneath the hood of her cowl.As Opal continued to walk down the path speckles of moonlight gently caressed her face in such a way that her umber skin shown brighter than the leaves beneath. Up ahead she could ...
Nosebleed
On the evening of October 17 last year, I met a woman. That day, I was tired of work and took a short escape flight to Japan. I was walking around Sapporo and I saw an old DVD store. The door ringed as I pace my step inside. It was a long room with a plethora of doors behind the counter and a small trail beside it. In front of the counter, the 3x4 meters room was dedicated to old DVDs and vinyl from the old memories of someone else and a classic for someone like me. My eyes trace along with the shelves, looking for something old yet familiar for me. The one I loved when I was a kid.“Do you hav...