Lucky Numbers_The Third Item on the News_Come Dusk, a new day Dawns_Ut pictura poesis
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Lucky Numbers
I think of myself as a night owl, but that night I was glad to go to bed, though my weariness was more emotional than physical. Everything seemed to be going wrong! I wasn’t exactly broke, but my financial situation wasn’t great either, and after some very promising signs my notion that I might be able to earn a living as a writer had taken several rejection-letter shaped dents (and I had waited long enough to no longer be able to convince myself that in other instances no news was good news). Perhaps my old English teacher, Mrs Moody, had been wrong and over-optimistic when she’d prophesied, ...
The Third Item on the News
Ashley couldn’t make up her mind if she thought that people who made a point of being awake when the digital clocks changed of their own volition were deeply sad, or if she was really determined that this year she would witness it too. It was proof, if minor, of that famous Sod’s Law. She was a light and fitful sleeper, and often was awake when two turned to three or the other way round anyway. But never, so far, on the relevant day. She had toyed with the idea of setting an alarm (on an analogue clock, of course!) just to make sure, but finally decided that most definitely did qualify as sad ...
Come Dusk, a new day Dawns
The sun was beginning to set in the west. A ball of pure fire, red and furious, burning away its last light as mankind’s time burned away with it. Come sunset, there will be no more humanity. Only the Forsaken ones would remain to roam the world, unchecked and unbound. A devastation of everything. A cataclysm. “Hear me now, as I address you for the lastwww.onedoor.cc time!” Weary heads of soldiers turned upward towards their general, who sat mounted atop his stallion. The horse was favoring one leg, bearing battle wounds of its own, as it trotted along the formed ranks. Along the last line of defense for al...
Ut pictura poesis
I moved to this big old house in Brunswick two years ago. I love the Victorian style, but it has its quirks. However, if you’ve ever lived in a Victorian house, it’s hard to live anywhere else. The woodwork, the archways that usher visitors elegantly from one room to another, the ornate decoration, the lush textures and heaviness of the interiors - they are self-conscious features of such homes. They all call attention to themselves. They seduce the viewers. We all move closer and lean over the brocade couches in the parlor, feel the urge to run fingers over the flocked wallpaper, call attenti...