Green Eyes_The Picnic_View From a Train_Attic Window
Catalog Guide:
Green Eyes
Green Eyes“There’s my favourite kept man!” Colin felt the practiced smile curve his lips. The first few times Jack used this as his opening, Colin had pointed out the company his very successful wife was running had been built by him, but Jack always ignored the statement. They’d both been members at the exclusive country club they were now sitting in for years, so the banter wasn’t new. Normally, Colin would have let it drop, but he was feeling vaguely discontented today,www.onedoor.cc so he decided to respond in kind. “So where’s your lovely wife today?” He knew he’d hit his mark when Jack’s face reddened...
The Picnic
The man walking along the gravel path looks too young to be here. He doesn’t have wrinkles on his face and his hair is still a roasted chestnut brown and full of boyish curls. He needs a haircut. It makes me smile. This visitor knows his path well. He bobs and weaves through the maze of stones. It’s almost picture perfect as bright Autumn leaves tumble all around him. I still have this fantasy of him dropping his grandmother’s wicker picnic basket and twirling as the orchestra swells around him. He doesn’t. Instead, he just kept marching on, his head held high. As he approaches his destinat...
View From a Train
For the fifth time this week, Jasmine saw the little girl propped up in her bed looking out the window of Whitebridge County Hospital. This part of the Whisper Valley train line was unique because it loops around in a way to give passengers a discernible view inside some of Whitebridge County Hospital. Not only was Jasmine able to identify the girl’s shoulder-length dark curls and olive skin, very much like her own, she saw the girl wave. Could she see Jasmine smile and wave back at her? Jasmine swore she could see the girl’s bright but heartbreaking smile. She was in the hospital, s...
Attic Window
I sat by the window, staring at the church across the street as bats flew around the bell tower. It is late at night, but I cannot sleep knowing this is my last night in this house. My grandma’s place, it is, but soon to be no more.“You loved this house,” I muttered. “It didn’t matter what took place in this house. You loved it.”It was six months ago that she passed away in this house. In her favorite room, on a bed that gave her plenty of rest. Rest for eternity now.Now, here is the house, practically empty, as I am the last to leave and welcome the new owners.“Are you sure you want to do th...