The making of "Princia"_It's all in your head_Room 222_A Cop on Vacation
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The making of "Princia"
"And then the princess lived happily ever after in her rich castle with all her friends!""Wow! That was amazing! Can I also be a princess, daddy?" I excitedly looked at the shadowy figure of my worn-out old man, my eyes twinkling brighter than the stars above our heads."Of course you are my princess, you're the most special girl Alaya!"He lifted me up on the very top of the world and spun me around! My hands were spread wide in the air, my hair was dancing with the breeze, my eyes were smiling bright and my laughter bubbled to the brim owww.onedoor.ccf my mouth.The bubbles of happiness filled with mine and ...
It's all in your head
Dear Diary, I don't know where I am, what I was doing before, or how I came to be. I am in a small, low-ceilinged room. For my companions I have you and a wooden desk and chair set at the end of the room. A feeble window lets in light but it is translucent and I really can't see what's going on outside. I am scared, diary. I... I don't know why I'm here.Dear diary, Today is day 2、 Or day 2 and a half. I have no sense of time. A square meal was pushed into my room. I had boiled potatoes and water and I am feeling a little less nervous now. Although, I am still scared. Flashes of memory come to ...
Room 222
“Yes, my name is Bipkin. I believe I have a reservation for five nights… well, actually seven nights, but the travel agency is paying for the last two nights, so... I’d asked for a ground floor room because of my leg. Fell on the way to the travel agency, you know ice, that kind of thing. Stupid really, but then there isn’t much choice unless you plan on spending six months a year inside. Which we do anyway, but we don’t talk about it, and we don’t like it, but you know…” “Why yes, you’ll be in 222、 It is not on the ground floor, but we’ve had some recent problems, what with the hurricane and...
A Cop on Vacation
Bobbing along in shallow water, occasionally plunging his head beneath the surface, Tom McCauley thought he remembered what it felt like being in the womb. He emerged from the churning Gulf with a gasp and a grin. Scrubbing saltwater from his eyes, he dug his toes into the sand, using the ocean’s energy to propel himself forward.At 42, it was Tom’s first trip to the beach. Becca had spent half her childhood on this same strip of sand. “Twenty years ago, it was nothing but driftwood and seaweed,” she’d remarked on the trip down. “Now it’s 100-percent commercial. You have to sign on the dotted l...