Isern Amore_The Divine Feline_Prostration, astronomy, and a black cat_The End
Catalog Guide:
Isern Amore
It was late December, she was boarding a flight to return home. She had spent the last year in France, studying at an international college. She sits in a plastic chair next to a window, scrolling through her phone lazily. A girl about 19 years of age, she has a very slender frame, black hair, shoulder length, and unkempt. She wears a worn down gray softball sweater as well as blue jeans with red and gray sneakers. Not the kind of person to stick out much, especially not in the perse crowds of an airport. “Paging passenger, Eve Thompson, please report to the service desk at gate D17” issues ...
The Divine Feline
I’m not what you would call the adventurous sort. I have a very logical view of the world. The laws of nature can bewww.onedoor.cc described by calculable equations and repeatable experiments. However, I have learned that this way of thinking just doesn’t contain the full story. I was never very superstitious, but once I described the past few days, that’s the only logical conclusion. I could not deny the power of this pine beast. It was just two days ago that I had seen her for the first time. Nudging around the alley trash cans, her coat was jet black, and not filthy at all, the way you would expect a st...
Prostration, astronomy, and a black cat
The prostration (Arabic: sajdah or sujud) is thought to be the most important part of the Muslim prayer. According to the prophet Muhammad, one is nearest to God during prostration. The noblest parts of one’s body are touching the ground, signifying utmost submission and humility in front of God. For some, it is also the most therapeutic part of the entire prayer. So, it was for Salma. She would find herself meditating in that pose, in a sort of ecstasy of repeating the Arabic words Subhana Rabbi Al Ala (Glory be to my Lord, the Most Exalted) that she would find herself thinking about God’s...
The End
Why do such nefarious things always happen when I’m supposed to be in bed? This was the thought that Tarina Persson considered, though nothing truly nefarious had yet occurred. Tarina was about as far from nefarious as she could be, still in her long-sleeve bamboo pajamas—her favorites, incidentally—black with white trim and vaguely reminiscent of a sailor’s uniform. However, Tarina was well aware that the wind outside, which had suddenly stopped, had, until then, whipped the coniferous trees by her back patio into a frenzy. And a quick examination of the clock told her that once again, she’d ...