The Postponement Potential_The Walls We Build_The Typsetter_Understanding Us
Catalog Guide:
The Postponement Potential
My first thought was, he has to be joking! I wish now I’d just come straight out and said it. Well, maybe worded it a little bit more tactfully (or maybe not) but did I really have to say “That’ll be lovely!” Perhaps it slipped out through force of habit or before I had thoroughly processed exactly what he was saying. Anyway, Leon certainly didn’t seem to detect any note of sarcasm in it and looked delighted. There are a couple of things I have to remember before I start feeling too bad about wishing I’d told him that he had to be joking. I’m not over-demanding. I’m genuinely not. I didn’t wan...
The Walls We Build
Sharon carefully crept up the creaky attic stairs to check the buckets. It’d been raining all afternoon, a real downpour, so she knew she’d need to empty them. The leaky roof was getting worse and needed to be replaced before the winter, but there wasn’t any money for that. Between her paycheck and Glen’s disability, there was never enough.Lugging each bucket down, Sharon dumped them in the tub and put them back, thinking about dinner. Something easy, she thought. She was tired after a long day. Glen was asleep in front of the TV again. She let him alone, with his bad back it was di...
The Typsetter
FURTIVE. Orla let the word rest in her hand for a moment, feeling its weight. There was something about seven-letter words. None of the flighty lightness of fives or sixes, but somehow still delicate enough to dance their way into the composing stick. They were Baryshnikov, at once immovable and in motion. FURTIVE. What a word. She allowed herself a last mwww.onedoor.ccoment with it and then, with a deft movement, flipped it over and slid it into the composing stick as one. FURTIVE. Yes. That would do nicely. She understood that most practitioners of the craft preferred to move around the type case, addin...
Understanding Us
“I get the child. End of discussion,” Calista says, folding a lavender top and putting it in her luggage. “I don’t understand how you can just decide that, without even asking me,” Julian says. He sits right in front of the luggage, forcing Calista to look at him. “I am her mother. Therefore, I get more rights on Lydia. Is that so hard to get through your thick skull?” she says, manoeuvring around him to place the next item in the luggage. “Yeah, maybe it is. Maybe I imagined it, but did you just say you had more rights on Lydia?” he asks. “Why, is there cotton stuck in your ears?” He grabs he...