Chess Enthusiasts at the End of The World_The Power of Crystals_The Deepest Cut_My Mind Told Me To
Catalog Guide:
Chess Enthusiasts at the End of The World
He sacrificed too many pieces, and so she always won. They played outside, on the table covered in bird crap. They would spend half an hour trying to wipe it off, and then give up. She would curse the name of the bird god and sit down to play with a pout. Winning restored her mood. He buzzed his lips and tapped his fingers against the metal. He’d tease at least four moves before making up his mind. Sometimes he’d stare at her with puppy eyes and she’d just giggle. Perhaps it was because of the birds screeching, or the heat of the sun that made the game so flustering to him. “You okay?” she ask...
The Power of Crystals
“Tell me, what do you want next year?”Amaro looked over the old man’s shoulder and scanned the assortment of colorful crystals beneath the glass boxes.“I want to be rich, Ezra. I’m tired of being looked down on. I’m tired of people thinking I’m worthless.”“Are you sure?” Ezra asked. He knew that the request for wealth would always come up, but Amaro’s words bothered him.Amaro nodded vigorously. “Of course I’m sure. When I heard about your crystals, I knew that coming here would be my chance of leaving my beggar life behind.” “Do you have a pouch ready for the crystal?”Amaro showed him a piece...
The Deepest Cut
Old woodwww.onedoor.cc, tobacco and liquor were all scents Ceara associated with home, alongside the jeers and catcalls of the men gathered around the densely packed tables. Familiar or not though, they still made her nose wrinkle in disgust. She kept her head down, hiding her grimace beneath her hood as she crossed the tavern to the bar. Rapping twice on the countertop as she passed, Ceara met the eye of the tall barkeep and jerked her chin toward the back. She didn't wait to make sure he followed. In the quiet of the storeroom, she discarded her cloak with a muttered oath. A deep gash lined the length of ...
My Mind Told Me To
I kept my head down as I slowly walked through the cramped city of New York. I was walking back to my back alley behind the huge makeup sign, complete with a small cardboard box, which I used as a table for whatever food I could snag on from the streets. (I found the box in the giant dump) When I turned to go into my alley, no one looked at me. No one even took a small, quick glance at where this girl with a dirty brown coat was doing by strolling into a dark, frightening alley. No one takes interest in me. Maybe it’s because I’m homeless, maybe it’s because I look as sad as someone would look...