Truth Come to Shadows_Blueberry Pancakes_Bina's Mystic Emporium for Immediate Truths_In Search o
Catalog Guide:
Truth Come to Shadows
The sidewalk before me was busy enough to distract from the discomfort of the metal bench I sat on. So far, I had seen two incidents from over the top of my phone.When a girl in a pink coat cursed, I was alerted of a third incident. She had stumbled, dropping her cup of coffee in the process, and the expletive came out as involuntarily as a cough. She stepped into the liquid and right back out with the tiniest of splashes. Her white shoelaces still dragged through the puddle, soaking up the light brown. They had caused her trip--at least that was what she believed.The girl didn’t see the shado...
Blueberry Pancakes
Cigarette ashes dropped from Angie’s cigarette into the blueberry pancake batter she was mixing. They weren’t fresh blueberries. They were as dried up and desiccated as the scenery outside the old dinewww.onedoor.ccr where she had been working for the last three weeks. Fresh fruit was hard to come by in these times, so was work. Since the federal government had collapsed things had changed. What had once been 50 states was now 27 sovereign nation-states. Some nation-states had set up a central government and had a semblance of law and order but others, like the one Angie was currently in, were struggling t...
Bina's Mystic Emporium for Immediate Truths
Bina placed the six neon signs ten feet apart in both directions. The boardwalk celebration was kicking off at 6pm but the growing number of pedestrians was already twice what the shop owners would typically see. She noticed that Paulito, the baker, had already placed his A-boards 20 feet apart. She shook her head. He was so disciplined, so on top of things. Something she struggled with constantly. One week she would wake up at 5am to meditate. The next week she would rush in at 11am, having missed the early morning walkers and breakfast with the neighbors.Every morning, seven of the eight own...
In Search of Beauty
All around her, the city was grey, bland, and muddied as the rain fell into tiny puddles, too small to be fun, and too big to be pretty. Storefronts and buildings were closed and quiet; her mother’s car was silent (as was her mother) but for the engine and the little tapping of droplets against the metal. Anise wondered how unremarkable this world could be, sometimes, until, just beyond glass panes of Anderson’s Antiques, she glimpsed a warm light. It came from a lamp, its lampshade made up of a thousand colors of brilliant stained glass, and though the store looked small, it didn’t look lik...