The Unlabeled Gift_Driving Miss Quoted_Order, According to Angela_Rest for the Wicked
Catalog Guide:
The Unlabeled Gift
I accidently skipped seventy years of my life, so I hosted a full-blown teenage-dream party at an old people’s home with only over 65s. Pretty epic, if you ask me. * It all started, really, when for my fourteenth birthday, I received this parcel. It was a Monday morning, so typically, an incredibly overwhelming and emotional time. Me complaining I had to go to school on my special day through mouthfuls of overly soggy cereal; my younger sister begging me to hurry up so she could open my presents; my mom shouting at nobody in particular because her clothes had shrunk in the wash and she had not...
Driving Miss Quoted
“What did you thinwww.onedoor.cck?”“It was alright. Not as scary as everyone made it out to be.”“Listen to the big brave boy. I felt you jump a few times during the creepiest parts.”“No, that was you clinging to me, making me sit up, that’s all. The 3D effects were good weren’t they... I’m keeping the glasses. Not sure how I’ll use them, but they’re cool.”“They should come free anyway with the exorbitant ticket prices. Here, put them in my purse.”“Keep your voice down, someone will hear.”“There’s no-one else left in here but us. Who’s going to know?”“I’ll know and that will be the giveaway. I look guilty bu...
Order, According to Angela
Oh shit. He’s standing at the door waiting for me.“You’re late.” Angela’s new boss held up his arm and pointed repeatedly at his watch. “Two minutes. To be precise. Ask Miss Warboyes to man the front desk and come into my office as soon as you’ve sorted yourself out. I want a word with you.”“Yes, Mr. Davies.”Two bloody minutes. What’s two bloody minutes? Angela mumbled under her breath as she hung up her coat and put her handbag in the locker in the staff room. Then she stormed over to Mr. Davies’ office, which was neatly set in a corner at the far end of the village library, and tapped on the...
Rest for the Wicked
Rest for the Wicked was the oldest restaurant in the city, if not the country. It was also one of the most unpopular because the bigoted landlord didn’t serve anyone who couldn’t demonstrate their magic.The owner, Alan, was all skin and bone. Everything else had shrivelled away during his mumification eight hundred years before.If he loved one thing in this world, and it was possible that he loved only one, it was yelling. He called them mundane when he was in a good mood. The insults he threw about when he was upset are both illegal and an automatic ‘Go straight to your religion’s version of ...