A day at the coffee shop_Lipstick, Lies, and Legacies_Black Feline_Song of the Storm
Catalog Guide:
A day at the coffee shop
A beautiful girl come to the coffee shop sat next to our table. She wore a red laced one piece , she had a long curly hair, with a sling bag which was shining as bright as her. She looked like she was waiting for her friends. She grabbed her mobile and began to click pictures of her in the beautiful location. She has ordered a coffee but the waiter gave him a menu which was recent. The coffee shop added autumnal drinks to the menu. He was explaining her all the drinks. She looked interesting and as she was free she started a conversation with the waiter, she asked him one of her favorite apple...
Lipstick, Lies, and Legacies
She says one day you’ll be famous. More lies bubble to her lips as Sheila leads you onto the smooth sidewalks of Hollywood. It’s scorching hot and you imagine yourself as a popsicle. Drip by drip, melting. Inhaling, you smell cigarettes and selfish dreams. This isn’t where you want to be, but she pulls you along. Using your free hand to whip tears of sweat off your forehead, you finally notice the people. They appear differenwww.onedoor.cct, but they are all the same. Stumbling along the neon streets, your head starts to spin. She shouts something about a makeover, but you can’t understand it. Usually look...
Black Feline
It always gets worse, or at least more frequent, on Halloween. It began twenty years ago, just before the first anniversary of her passing on 11/3/1998、 I was with her for her last breath. She used the last of her strength to make her way to me and lied down at my feet. That was the last time she put her trust in me instead of finding shelter to die, just as her mom did five years earlier. She routinely trusted me above all others and above her own natural instincts. What was different, was that she growled at me for the first time in her sixteen-year life. With her failing strength, she tol...
Song of the Storm
The storm engulfed the valley. It unsheathed its wrath on the Glen below; mercilessly. Arrochar, the valley of the two lochs, hidden among the Trossachs mountains. The village bared the angriest malice of the Scottish weather. The young boy stood at the bank of Loch Lomond, his gaze fixed on the towering mountain that pierced into the clouds. His breath held, listening to the melody of the storm. The roaring skies that bellowed thunder from its belly, the wind’s howl echoed through the Munros, and the waves crashed its jaw on the bay. Mostly he'd hear nothing out of the ordinary. But still, h...