Time Gives Everything_Unlocking the Door_The Floating Apparition_Finding Myself Among the Dough
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Time Gives Everything
In physics, there a principle known as the observer effect. Simply put, the act of measuring something changes it. It should be noted that this is not the same as the uncertainty principle, which tells us that we can only know so much about a thing. That is, if you know exactly where you’re making the measurement, you can’t know anything about when you’re measuring it. Or something like that. It’s been a few years since I’ve been in a physics class. Nevertheless, the map had me thinking about both of these effects. To be precise, it wasn’t the map. At least not at first. No, at first it was th..www.onedoor.cc.
Unlocking the Door
Gripping the reassuring weight of the heavy silver key, she makes her way through the gate, letting it clang shut behind her, hoping the tenants might hear her approach. She tries to remember the last time she was here, turning the key over and over in her pocket as if that will unlock the memory, but it stays stubbornly shut. A year ago? The inspections used to be annual, they were hardly needed more regularly when the House was brand sparkling new, all fresh paint and glittering windows.Of course, she remembers a time when she’d been summoned to the house more often: late night calls, early ...
The Floating Apparition
On October 31, 1975, there was a strange sighting in the small town of Primrose, Alabama. Residence in the community reported seeing a floating apparition adorned in a red cloak. The mysterious creature floated into nearby woods and vanished into thin air. It was Friday evening around seven-thirty on the foggy night of Halloween. Donald Ryan and his wife Andrea were getting groceries out of the trunk of their car when they saw the strange figure. The couple's three children stared at the object outside the window of their home. The Ryan's gathered their groceries quickly from their car and rus...
Finding Myself Among the Dough
As I stare out of my window seat, I’m trying to memorize the lines of cobblestone road leading up to the train’s platform. The blue sky, its bluest since I arrived here seven days ago under the pretense of finding myself. Every cloud a whisper of its self, promising to be something full and billowy but never materializing then slowly dissipating into thin whisps of white. I hear the noise of the city calling me and yet I must go for I fear this place, with its effortless existence, will entrap me here under false pretenses. I was only supposed to stretch my legs when the aroma of fresh baked...