Ignis_The House on 45th Street NE_Why Me?_The Fire Next Door
Catalog Guide:
Ignis
“By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. There was a smell unlike the scent of the bonfires we dwww.onedoor.ccanced around. The darkness of the smoke choked me and I was completely alone. I fell into the grass, gulping down my last of courage hoping to escape. When I awoke, the forest was ugly with the destruction done by the hunters. They wanted to weed us out, wanted to hunt us like animals. But they did not know it was just me, I sent the others to the river. By the time the fire was set, they had caught the scent and ran for their cover. But I was alone, and my pack was safe.” Keyon fin...
The House on 45th Street NE
Ever since she was a little girl, Sandy loved driving down 45th Street NE in Salem. On the corner sat the house of her dreams. It was a two-story mid-century home with a big wrap-around porch. Sometimes she even parked out front, just to take a good long look.Though Dan and Sandy had been married for almost five years, it had never been the right time to buy a house. But when they both got raises in the same month, they decided it was time.Sandy was excited about looking for a house, but it was hard to give up her dream. So, when the house showed up on Zillow, Sandy knew it was kismet. And abs...
Why Me?
By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. Not the smoke and ashes kind of fire but the seasonal one, I’m here on the deck in my rocking chair looking out over the forest. Summer melted away without my knowing and here we are in the Fall, which is so breathtakingly beautiful sitting here looking out over the surrounding forest. The leaves are all the colours of a fire from deep red to palest lemon mixed with a dash of bronze. “Dad, here is a blanket.” Sheena smiled and wrapped me up as if I was something precious. “Thank you, love. How are you?” Creak, creak went the chair as i...
The Fire Next Door
There are two things that wake me.The first is the acrid smell of smoke, drifting in through the small crack in my window. The second are the golden orange flames that I can see painted in the sky surrounding a cottage. It’s Peter’s. My feet are moving off their own accord as I slip on my robe, throw on my boots, and tear across my lawn towards the house opposite my own.It seems silly to knock, but I do so anyways. “Peter!” I bang my fist against the door, but the wood is hot. Hotter still is the door handle as I grab for it, then quickly set it down with a yelp. “Peter! It’s Dorothy!” I back...