To Make it Known_Heir of Rite_A day in the Bathroom_Inches and milestones
Catalog Guide:
To Make it Known
When Clementine dreamed, her mind seemed to leave her body like a ghost dissipating from its former self. She found new worlds written in the ways of simplicity, and every time she woke from such dreams, she wished she hadn’t.This afternoon was no different. She’d fallen under the spell of the pretty purple sky beyond the long window next to her bed. The warm air had swooped her away from the novel she’d been reading, one just as fairytale filled as her dreams. The last thing her sleepy eyes had rested on were frits playing above the grassy field by the eastern dorm building, little win...
Heir of Rite
Everything was ready for the ritual. The pregnant moon hung high over the trees casting a white glow over her bare skin. She shivered as she listened to the whispers of the cool breeze, she could have sworn she heard voices among their limbs. But who else would be out here, who else besides her and her Priestess.No one knew where they were, or that they even had left the castle. And surely no one think to look for her here, in the middle of the woods. A woman of her station would never be found out of her bedchambers after dark, or so it should be. Nor was this an act of defiance or rebellion ...
A day in the Bathroom
I wish I hadn’t done it. I wish I could deprive myself of this moment. I am glad I did it. I wish I could stay at peace forever. I was too tired to remember my mistake. All it mattered was that my mom was yelling at me. She screamed louder and louder with every passing second. Her eyes looked at me mercilessly, her body shook with anger as she told me yet again. “Why don’t you just die already?!” “Why did I give birth to you?!”I was brave and terrified. I stood strong to her words, even for a few seconds. I stood up to her. As if all of what she told me, didn’t matter. My heartbeat fastened ...
Inches and milestones
Muscle memory told me to make eggs. To fry bacon andwww.onedoor.cc grill fresh sliced tomato. To catalog the remaining staples and begin my rounds of weekly linen exchange. But mundane routine had no place in our house that morning, even if every fiber of my being said otherwise. The enormity of change sat like a weight on my chest. Shallow breaths and stinging eyes. I could not shy away from it. From some fathomless abyss of motherly tolerance and strength, I stood a little straighter and promised myself I wouldn't beg him to stay. "Mom. I'm 18, not 8、 This is stupid." "Please, not today Noah." I choke,...