Freya_ON THE VERGE OF SPEECH_When the Rain Refused To Let Up_In the Books
Catalog Guide:
Freya
"Freya! Freya, where are you going?" My older sister, Heaven called out as she chased after me. We were next to some very large bushes and once you went through them, you'd be in one of the human villages.It was the middle of the night when I was sneaking out to it, I thought that she was a heavy sleeper. Why was she even awake? Did I make some noises when I was getting up to leave earlier?"I'm...just going for a walk Heaven. Maybe you should just go back to sleep or something?" I suggested with a nervous smile. Maybe she would buy this, like I said, it's around midnight she's probably really ...
ON THE VERGE OF SPEECH
“Speak now, Bock. Speak, and you can have this treat.”Oooh . . .why, human, why tease and torture me? I wiggle my butt, isn’t that good enough for a cookie? See my tail? I’ve been wagging forever! Please, please, please! Give me the damn treat!“Speak! Come on, Knickerbocker. You can do it!”Of course I can, but it’s humiliating, human mom! I’m not a circus dog!“Speak? Speak! Well, if you really don’t want it . . .”*BARK*“Good boy! Here you . . . OW! Knickerbocker, not so rough!”Well, I’m maybe sorry a little bit but that was your fault. You tease and torture, then threaten to take it away, so I...
When the Rain Refused To Let Up
The family was staying in the house a lot more than they used to. Another war? That was the first thing my mind leapt to. But as the younger brother carried in the mail, I scanned through it and noticed no propaganda screaming on the headlines. Nor any posters urging young people to enlist for the army. The father locked himself up in the office, the mother cooked for nearly every single meal, the younger brother and older sister did not go to school, even though it was a Monday. www.onedoor.cc I was definitely not used to the noise. As I wrote in my journal, telling you, my imaginary reader, of my observ...
In the Books
Ruth Elis sat on a squeaky, worn chair located on the top floor of Ollowood Library. She had a plain sheet of paper laid out in front of her, eagerly waiting to be written on. She dipped a quill pen daintily into the ink bowl, wiping off the excess before laying it down on the page. Ruth had just turned eighty-four years young only two days ago. She did not have any family nor did she have friends to keep her company on that special day. Instead, she spent her day with the worn, aged books of Ollowood Library. She was alright with that, though. The books gave her a smile brighter than any huma...