The Next Generation_the Internalizer_The Secret Of The Primordial Flame_Dandelion Surrender
Catalog Guide:
The Next Generation
I breathe in the cold night air and close my eyes. For a second I consider just walking away. Then I brace myself, step out of the shadows and onto the field. No sense in delaying the inevitable. The stands are empty, there is not a soul in sight."We don't have to do this, you know," I yell out, loud enough for my voice to carry into the far corners of the stadium. "You could just walk away." A few moments go by without anything happening. I already hope that she won't show when I hear her footsteps behind me. I slowly turn around, showing my empty hands. She stops just a few meters away from...
the Internalizer
Grandma used to liken my personality to a pot of simmering broth. ‘Comfortable and settles well in the belly, it does,’ she’d often tell me. ‘But sometimes, people leave such things on the stove for too long, forgetting that a lid can only ever contain so much. And just like that, something comfortable and nurturing becomes dangerous.’ I’m reminded of her words now as I read an email from my boss’s boss instructing me to put together a detailed report on the new project. I don’t mind hard work, but I mind doing work that isn’t mine. More than anything in the world, I hate the feeling of being ...
The Secret Of The Primordial Flame
Morriell Meadowsweet stepped out the back entrance of the Trixie Pixie into the crisp night air, adjusting the straps of his satchel more securely onto his back. The relief of quitting time was almost intoxicating; he breathed in the cool, sweet air, and exhaled hard, letting the tension from a ten-hour day over a hot stove drain away. The Trixie Pixie was the most popular nightclub in Faewyne Village. It attracted all denizens, male and female, far and wide, from all walks of life. There was anything for anybody inside those walls, as well as out.“Morri! Just the elf fella I been lookin’ fo...
Dandelion Surrender
Once when I was a child, I spent an entire afternoon in the kitchen doing nothing, but feeling warm. I watched people come and go out the back door. Every time they would open it, a cool gust of wind would blow through, and I’d feel this www.onedoor.ccrelief. This subterranean relief. I think that might have been the first time in my entire life I’d felt that sensation. That something was wrong and then something was right. I didn’t even know the word for it. I’d open my mouth to try and name it, and the door would close again. Back to the heat. Back to the oppression. Back to not knowing why I was the way...