Honk Honk_That Night of Halloween_A Convenient Kill_Scar Tissue
Catalog Guide:
Honk Honk
The sun rises, it is time to begin the day. I clean my feathers and look out from the cliffs and see the sun dancing upon the waves. The wind is blowing a bit strong and I ruffle my feathers to clean them more thoroughly. After a stretch of my pink feet I look to my partner. We have taken care of our goslings very well, all but one perished. Three strong goslings and all male. They will find good mates and provide well for them. The one that perished fell to a fox a moon past. I still am filled with sorrow for him, he was a kind gosling to his siblings. I look out onto the tundra and see many ...
That Night of Halloween
Trigger warning: suicideIn the last Halloween, me and my friend, Amy had decided to spend a night in a graveyard. Because we are the best ghost hunters in this town. It was a different experience of our lives. Actually, we are new in this town. My family shifted here six months ago. But Amy's family are living in this town for ten years. We became best friends since we met with each other. We play together, learn together and spend the whole day together. We wanted to make that Halloween very especial. But the Halloween truly remain exceptional.We started to pack our bags and we had taken all ...
A Convenient Kill
Built in 1894 it has doorways meant for people who used to be a little bit shorter. Long lonely hallways stretch to rooms in which hundred year dust has settled in every nook and cranny. I used to have a maid to gently sweep it away, but she has long since returned to the soil. Now the house lay almost barren expect for a few choice paintings that probably belong in a museum and quite minimal furniture. The echos of every creak and groan of old wood reverberates, amplified by the big open space. If walls could yearn, these ones would cry out in grief for the living that once walked these halls...
Scar Tissue
By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire.Not actually on fire, of course. I hadn’t been close to a real fire since my early twenties, when the world last seemed exciting and not in the least bit scary.This kind of fire was the orange, red and gold of late fall, yet I had been too shut up in my own house to notice the colors creeping into the trees. Like the dying leaves, my own life was slipping away, and it had been for years.My dog finished her business, and www.onedoor.ccI let her wander a bit as I picked up the leaves cascading to the stoop. “C’mon, Roxie,” I finally called, and she ran to...