Fresh Air, Don't Care_Lost but Heard_Fall_Life's a Fleeting Dream
Catalog Guide:
Fresh Air, Don't Care
“Let’s go for a walk,” said Dad. Elliot was immediately suspicious. It was midday on a grey, Jawww.onedoor.ccnuary Saturday. He’d been horizontal on the couch, with the football on, for no more than twenty minutes and was exactly where he intended to be for the whole weekend. “A walk??”“Yeah, why not? A brisk walk down to the town and back. It’ll be good for us, some fresh air before it starts raining again.”This was a very out of character suggestion. Not that Dad didn’t go for walks, he went for them all the time but usually with Mom and the dog. Elliot couldn’t think of a single time they’d gone for a ca...
Lost but Heard
In the city of sin, the reaper walks in the light. I’ve come to learn that now. I went on a trip to Las Vegas, just my friend and me. “My best friend!” That’s what he called me, but he was a hindrance to me, or so I thought of him as such. But I went with him on this trip cause he invited me and paid for me to go. How could I say no? We hit the pool, and he wanted to play some childlike games. I was hesitant but gave in. It was fun. I hadn’t let loose like that in a long time. He was different from me in many ways, and I always thought myself superior. Why? What was I afraid of? He was ...
Fall
Just thinking about way too much as I'm standing at the top of the stairs. I stop to hear people walking by my house, the rustling of leaves pulling my attention away as I put my left foot in the direction of the first step into space. The brisk, scratchy sound of leaves swooshing up into the air with each step of the unknown persons outside my perception. Taking me to a moment in time, not this one. Taking me away from where I should be focusing my attention. Stealing my attention from this critical moment.Now I'm falling, and all thoughts of leaves and the time of year and the place I went b...
Life's a Fleeting Dream
Warning: This story contains domestic violence, strong language, abuse, self harm, sensitive topics, and substance abuse.There I stood, staring at an unfamiliar person through the water-stained mirror. The pane of glass was clouded from the spray of tight, wet coils, shaken with the desperate hope that my hair would fall at my shoulders like Aurora's did when she fell into that blissful slumber. I curved a finger on the bottom lids of my eyes, darkened with half moons, to wipe away the story they told. But my finger is not a magical wand. My large hands fell to eith...