The Traveling Tinker_What was lost_A Life of Regret_Housing Problems
Catalog Guide:
The Traveling Tinker
Fien fixed her eyes on the trail ahead as her wagon lumbered along. Going from place to place is what she did, she was a gypsy of sorts but in reality Fien was a tinker, a peddler just like her father before her, and his father before him. If people needed things fixed, she could do it. If they needed a new kettle or shovel,www.onedoor.cc she could sell them one or offer a fair trade. She usually traded in simple, inexpensive things but sometimes not. She had worked hard to cobble together a good, simple life and she was respected throughout the valley. She would carry news of happenings from village to vil...
What was lost
A gust of wind blew the "sticky" notes all over Jacob's room. Jacob lay motionless on his bed, as usual, and the call of his mother from the kitchen jolts life into him. His bed is situated in the corner of his room furthest from the door and adjacent to the window left open, "It's safer that way," he tells himself. Standing up from his bed a few notes stick to his feet, the cedar wood floors creaked and were getting louder each day, Jacob didn't notice. Moving with his eyes half open Jacob clamored for the bathroom door, he sat on the lip of the bath, now seeing the notes on his feet. Some c...
A Life of Regret
When Raj had stealthily installed the iSpy 200 Vision Plus device on his wife’s prescription glasses two weeks ago, he had no idea the device would enable him to watch and hear from her perspective—in a way, relive—her last day alive. It was this morning Raj had received the Bluedart courier with the pen drive containing the recording of the last day of Mira’s life—her first and only day of wearing her glasses with the iSpy installed—just before the horrific car accident in which her car had been hit on the rear by another fast-moving vehicle; the Police believed it to be a truck or a bus. Mir...
Housing Problems
Whenever I tell people something that really happened to me, they always say I’m making it up as I go along. I am the Poster Girl for “Tell the truth, and nobody will believe you”. I spent my summers in what the townsfolk called the Ancestral Mansion. To me, it was just Nanna’s House – a rambling building built on a hill, with a whole wing preserved as it used to be in bygone times. There was just one room that was out of bounds – a room that was said to be haunted. This room was always cool in summer, and warm in winter. Whenever anyone entered, for a dare, I was told, they felt out of brea...