Rebels and roses_Nathaniel Benedict and the book of Doom_How Wonderful Indeed._The Last Lap
Catalog Guide:
Rebels and roses
Northern French coast, 1942Hélène put on her best fake smile as the German officer approached the tobacco stand.‘Leutnant Dorn, n'est-ce pas?’ she said from behind the counter. Although she hated the way the Nazis were running roughshod over her beloved fishing town of Boulogne-sur-Mer, it paid to be polite and remember the names of the big cheeses in the occupying force. Surprise spread across Dorn’s craggy face. ‘Richtig. I’m flattered you have learnt my name.’ He threw her a stiff smile. ‘And you are Hélène, correct? How could I forget the only one-eyed beauty in this dusty little place.’Hé...
Nathaniel Benedict and the book of Doom
As we drift along the ice-cold river, fed by glacier water from the mountains up north, I feel the weight of the book on my shivering back. I consider it to be my luck of the draw that I ended up with this burden, but I do thank the forces of nature that I am not alone on this journey. Though solely responsible for the safe return of this precious cargo, I have by my side my trusted ally and friend, Sunny Deveraux. Courageous, smart, elegant, and sophisticated, she is the driving force behind my will to succeed; she has been since I was first tasked with this mission. But now, alas, I feel not...
How Wonderful Indeed.
The artist stood painting a scenery and decided to use the tree that stuck out like a sore thumb for his painting. How wonderful. The lines of the brushes softly added colour to the canvas. He continued painting and added in the couple under the tree into his painting, the soft breeze brushing against the painters face made him feel calm and relaxed. Oh how wonderful.There it was. The reason for his suffering. That annoying Tree. The begining of his so called love started here, the tree grew with the young couple since their childhood but now, it stood www.onedoor.ccswaying in the swift wind basking in the ...
The Last Lap
I wander the streets of the once called New York City, it used to bustle with people, tossing me around left and right as I made my way to school. The crowded streets, the yelling, the sirens, it was all gone, now I walk alone, no yelling at Taxis to stop as I cross the street, no shooing off birds that were picking at the food I ate It was dark, cold, and lonely now. The tallest of the towers had collapsed, the cars were up in flames giving off a light that would have had me in awe but now is just ominous. I stare at the glow of the fire crackling over a car, there should be sirens racing to...