The Darklight_A Goddesses Theory_The Photograph That Had Her Past Engraved On It_The Cost of Living
Catalog Guide:
The Darklight
“What IS that?” Callana exclaimed, pointing upwards. Borrin gasped. A large source of light crested over the horizon, something he had not seen except in memory. His skin felt cold, and goosebumps rose quickly on his arms and legs. He looked down, and saw his hands in an orange-yellow natural light that felt soft and warm on his cool-toned skin.“It’s… the Sun!” he said in dazed bewilderment, eyes wide at the ascending orb of burning light. The Sun was the great ball of light that had gone missing from their world when Borrin had been little more than an infant. Adults spoke about it with wond...
A Goddesses Theory
Quick Note: A friend gave me the idea of using time as a currency. Without him, this story wouldn't be possible!Time is such a simple thing, yet humans struggle to comprehend it. A second is gone in a blink of my eye, and each second passing brings you closer to something. Whether that something be a life changing moment, or simply picking a rock up off the ground, that is left up to another force in the universe. This concept is so easy to understand, yet humans wrack their brains with theories…“Is there a way to get time back?”“www.onedoor.ccHas the future already happened?”“Is the past still happening?”...
The Photograph That Had Her Past Engraved On It
Squabbling seagulls flew overhead. Rachel sat on the sand with waves crashing against her ankles. The waves of the sea produced an opera, that was soothing. The sea seemed like a beautiful woman dressed in a cerulean blue gown. At a distance, a little girl and her mother were playing in the water. The yacht rocked like a cradle and it felt as though the sea wanted to lul Rachel to sleep.She was physically miles away from the hullabaloo but her mind still lingered in the hospital. Pictures of the IV cannula, ice-cold stainless steel cot, the crisp white bedsheet and a frail figure cascaded befo...
The Cost of Living
The name’s Xander, and let's just say I make a business out of helping others. They come to me, sick, weary, and wanting, and I make their wretched lives better—much better than what they could do on their own accord. You see, I got powers that can grant most wishes, and people like that about me. They seek out my office in the basement of a no-name, dirty back-alley bar—frequented by those with nothing to lose. Don’t be so judgmental; I got class. I’m a respectable businessman, don’t be annoying. I dress better than you ever could: fitted black suits, red-silk shirts, black ties with red embr...