Rural Route 12: All Atwitter_"The Family Saga"_British Isles 1819_The Close Warm Comfort o
Catalog Guide:
Rural Route 12: All Atwitter
It started out harmlessly enough. When I found myself with an abundance of leftover black sesame seeds from a failed baking experiment, I figured why not share, and tossed them out onto the back deck.I chanced to walk by later that day and was delightfully surpriswww.onedoor.cced at the trio of delicate feathered creatures assembled there enjoying their meager repast, each seemingly with its own personality. I watched for a time as they and others came and went. I was hooked! When the seeds ran out, so did my entertainment. Woe!How to get them back? At $1/oz, a similarly devout offering was out of the quest...
"The Family Saga"
“The Family Saga”Sorry, Dusty; I promise I will give you tuna in the evening. Dusty remarked with a groan and gave a sullen look to "M." "Every time she promises, but she makes excuses, purr purr...." "Now I have to share that horrid Pedigree with that annoying Bruno, who despite my repeated warnings doesn’t stop licking me." Plus, he is a major whiner. Grr Grr.A regular day at the apartment ‘M," as usual, is boggled with work. With the upcoming event, she is always on her toes, unable to give time to her precious kids, a 4 year old Labrador, Bruno, and a 3 year old cat, Dusty. Bruno always w...
British Isles 1819
British Isles 1819Dear Diary,This is my 831st try with the time machine. Each experiment before was beneath my touch. I am cock-sure that my calculations have been nothing less than accurate. After a belated cup of tea and stroll around the pond I have concluded that my scientific research of kinetic energy will surpass anything anyone here, especially in London, can overcome. The testing of such a device I will endeavor. Furthermore, I wish myself luck. Yours truly G.A.T.New York City 2022“I got my 23 and Me results!” Said Savannah as she made herself comfortable on the couches outside the Re...
The Close Warm Comfort of the Wild
I feed the fire with small dry branches of a dead fever tree. In the darkness a freckled nightjar calls, followed by the distant cackle of spotted hyena. Rising flames cast a glow on my three captors, each nursing his own affliction.Akani mumbles and shivers in his sleep, cheeks beaded in sweat. Malaria. Vukosi squats nearby, gripping his AK-47 as flanks clench and face contorts in another spasm. Dysentery. He glares. As if I’m the cause of our predicament, not the tarp-wrapped bundle beside Nhelo. Barely a teen, Nhelo suffers only a conscience. When our eyes meet, I offer an excessively frien...