Green Post-its_The Involuntary Isolation_slow swim_A Time For Family
Catalog Guide:
Green Post-its
Sharp, shrill, the alarm proclaimed the start of the day. Opening one eye, just enough to see the fine red beam pulsating from the face of my watch. The needy thing lay just to the right of me, so I urged my stiff arm to pry from the side of my body, reach out and wave a delicate hand through the dancing light, as if asking it to hold its breath. Craning my arm back, I attach the watch to my wrist. This triggers the curtains to crawl open, occasionally shivering with discontent for being awoken so early. They unexpectedly stopping all together in protest. This permitted only a rectangle of war...
The Involuntary Isolation
The sun creeps through the crevasses in the foil plastered www.onedoor.ccon the iron-barred windows. The only sound emanating from Talia's labored breathing, she lays in a corner, contracted into a fetus position watching the movement of the dust particles suspended in Brownian motion. A knock on the door alerts her anxious mind and she kneels before the door. The door opens to reveal a man wearing an impassive mask of arrogance, which upon closer inspection can be seen to carry its own air of self-smugness, dressed in greasy overalls, a gun in his right hand, and a plate of baby food in the other. He pla...
slow swim
"You'll never know unless you try," my big sister Tasha said sarcastically. I looked over the edge at the blue ocean waters with a gut sharp desire to jump. The ability to swim was no longer known to us, so Tasha knew I wouldn't be able to do it. She liked calling me out on my seemingly illogical ideas. She'd thrown in all the rational reasons why I shouldn't, and I'd just lean deeper into my instincts. Both of our parents died in a boating accident a decade and a half ago. I took on a fascination with water and an optimistic viewpoint of life after they passed, whereas Tasha became the opposi...
A Time For Family
By the time the smoke had cleared, literally and metaphorically, the dining table looked like a spillage in a matchstick factory. It was hard to tell where the cranberry sauce ended and the blood began. I was trying to sit up and look around the place, but I must have broken some ribs and every time I moved, pain ravaged my chest.Across the room, in the doorway, I could see something. Something I recognized. Someone. I wiped my face, blinked tears from my eyes.Mum was standing there, her arms folded, looking over the carnage. She shook her head slowly and rolled her eyes, then disappeared in...