I’m Quitting_A Hard Day's Work_Shared Experiences_Around the Corner
Catalog Guide:
I’m Quitting
“I’ve had enough, Karen. I’m going now.” Irene who was Karen’s assistant manager and her senior by twenty years, spoke with a firmness Karen had only glimpsed at before. “No, please don’t do that, Irene.”The assistant manager of the town’s busiest charity shop sighed heavily.In a real fix, karen, the manager sighed even more heavily.“I don’t think you realise how unhappy I am Karen. I do so much here. I’m tired all the time.”“I do realise,” Karen said placatingly. But truthfully, perhaps she didn’t. How could a person truly understand what another was experiencing without walking in their shoe...
A Hard Day's Work
(There are mentions of incestual abuse, as well as sexual situations)Her feet dragged as she climbed the stairs in her ugly waitress shoes. The uniform she wore was too baggy and long, but it satisfied what her boss wanted. Sighing, she stuck her key in the door.As the decrepit door swung into the dingy apartment, she wasn’t surprised to see toys all over the floor. Obviously, the talk she had with Pinky hadn’t been heard. But her bed was calling, along with the knowledge that an alarm would wake her at five-thirty the next morning.Oh wait – it was just later this morning. The day had run into...
Shared Experiences
Page heard the noises coming from the kitchen, but she didn’t consider them particularly important. The only sounds that mattered to her were those that came from her tablet or from her baby brother. At seven-years-old, she could unconsciously prioritize one sense over others. Doubt and paranoia had not yet replaced wonder and imagination.Clank. Ping.Tia, the nanny, heard it as well. But for her, the noises were too intentional to ignore. She was middle-aged and had long outgrown wonder and sadly her imagination had been replaced by paranoia. She blamed her parents for filling her with superst...
Around the Corner
Just Around the CornerWhere I come from people wave. Even driving by, they slow and shoot their arm out the car window to acknowledge the person they’re passing. It’s a small town, of course. Who waves in a big city? It’s so small that eventually you’ve gotta leave, like I did. Or suffer the doldrums. The long winters, the gossip, the restrictive attitudes. But I miss the waving, now that I am in a big city. It’s hard to ever get noticed here. I try. I dress colorfully; I smile and initiate hellos; I introduce myself in the elevator. I try to find common interests, to strike up a conversatiwww.onedoor.cc...