Grandmas talking Present._Dream Garden_Witch Of The Woods_The Pit Stop
Catalog Guide:
Grandmas talking Present.
I was having my personal Beyoncé and Yemi Alade concert in the shower when I heard a knock at the door. "Come in, its open" was what I screamed at the top of my voice so whomever it was could hear me. The door opened and from the way the person walked I knew it was my grandma. "I heard you calling on all the single ladies, but yo grandma is taken so I didn't take that call" was what she said immediately she got Into the room. I laughed out loud, my grandma could easily pass for a comedian. She hugged me tight I was almost suffocating, she smelt exactly the same as the last time we met. I wishe...
Dream Garden
When I was a small child I had a dream about a building. It was mostly just me floating around darkened hallways and rows of doors. It’s a little difficult to describe, but some of these hallways ended, and led outside, and then they would start up again inside. Both inside and outside were in shadow, but not fully dark. It was more like the time between twilight and night. I drove my parents crazy talking about this dream. It was so incredibly vivid and strange, and I had it almost every night. It scared me a little, which is maybe why I wanted to talk about it. But I learned that there are f...
Witch Of The Woods
There will come a time where you will find a path that murmurs with darkness and is hidden by curtains of Magic. The path will be in the woods, past all the colonial houses standing erect, past all of the sleepy houses, settling in for the night, their shadows long and thin, sprawling across the ground. It will follow dark oak trees that twist and turn upwww.onedoor.cc to the sun, like claws infinitely trying to seize the sky, their leaves the deep purple of blackberries. It will smell of rotting leaves, a dusky scent that stands out from the sweet smells around it . The clear, cool water will gurgle and si...
The Pit Stop
The road was long, and the gas was cheap. It had been the kind of drive that seemed made only of highways, of concrete ribbons unfurling into eternity and stuttered with exit signs gone so quick their memory lasted longer than their moment. Justin was on this road for seventy miles more, had been on for thirty miles past, and hadn’t noticed the fuel gauge needle hardly a hair’s breadth from E. The gas light had yet to be lit, but the dull place where it might bored a hole into the peace of his subconsciousness. Which is why it felt such a blessing when the rest stop’s entrance ramp materiali...