Life, As I see It_Remember When..._Freedom 95_"Diverse"
Catalog Guide:
Life, As I see It
Some people say that life is like a video game, where we are the main characters inside our own stories. Others say life is like a walk down a path that's both ugly and pretty. While others say that life is merely a play and the world a stage and us the players. Meanwhile, some folks say that life is like a tuna sandwich on top of a rainbow-colored hill, getting chewed by a sunglassed feathered viking goat that yodels.No questions, please.However, life, for me, is but a rusty boat traversing down a winding river..."Approaching shallow waters!" yells Tom, one of my crew. He stands at the bow. "...
Remember When...
“Well, do you?”“No, I try not to remember,www.onedoor.cc it is easier that way.”“Do you remember the time we went off seeking to be lost? Escape the implied pressures; jobs, family, us?”I did remember, but couldn’t, no, didn’t want to admit that the past makes me nostalgic for something that may never have existed, except in my mind.“Yes, I remember falling up.”“Falling up? What does that mean?”It is a feeling. We take memories from our past and purposely embellish or detract from their reality to make them acceptable for our needs. That is what remembrance is for the most part, a crutch to help us from the...
Freedom 95
Elliott retired years ago and Maxmillion Pennyworth, his financial advisor, compliments him on his glowing health. Until today, when he frowns. “The challenge, Elliott, is longevity risk.” “Longevity?” Elliott chuckles. “That’s a nice problem to have.” “In these high-inflation times, you might outlive your assets. That’s not so nice.” Maxmillion says. “Of course, you could consider a ‘top up’… do you have a preference for right or left arm?” “Right, right…” Elliott has been nodding along as usual to Maxmillion’s polished phrases and is caught off-guard. He says abruptly, “er no, left,” because...
"Diverse"
“Write a story about a character who thinks they have a sun allergy” "Different"The sound of harsh laughter fills my mind as I close my eyes, trying to rest. I see a crowd full of people surrounding me, harsh eyes staring at me, judging. I could hear whispers in the crowd, silent but deadly. “Mom,” a little girl said, crying, “What’s wrong with her?” I felt a burning pain on my arm, and the voices of the people became louder, the sun shined brighter, the arm hurt worse. I flinch and open my eyes and sit up immediately. They were their usual peach color, with small brown freckles scattered on ...