Scent of Fear: Two of a Kind_Dare To Daydream_Ticket, Please_Green Crumbs
Catalog Guide:
Scent of Fear: Two of a Kind
Lights flickered and glimmered in Hepburn.Adonis was engulfed in a silky white glow as the moonlight illuminated him as he drove through Hepburn's slums.Hepburn was once a prosperous mining and manufacturing town but now lies idle. Yet, some remnants of life still exist; Adonis realized he was not the only one there.A wall of shadows cascaded down from tarnished pewter buildings sprawled throughout it. To refuel, he stopped at a gas station. Outside, a homeless person played the drums.www.onedoor.ccAdonis was perplexed. Why was a homeless person playing in a dormant sleeping town, a shell of its former self...
Dare To Daydream
“Shhh. We have to be quiet.” I whispered, my voice shaking as I spoke. I looked at my team, panicking and waiting for me to come up with a plan. The growls and footsteps of the beast echoed through the dark forest. I racked my brain about what to do, desperately trying to come up with a plan to get us out of this. But all I could think was how did I get into this mess? Of course, I knew how. My father was the hero of our kingdom. As the head knight of the king’s guard, he saved many lives and defeated many foes. Unfortunately on his last mission he never returned. Everyone believed he had...
Ticket, Please
"May I see your ticket, please?"The friendly voice of the station manager pulls me back from my reverie. Sighing deeply, I pull put my cell phone and show him the e-ticket printed there. He can already see that I will need help boarding; my luggage is piled on a rolling cart, and my cane leans against it. I knew I would need to pay extra for both big bags, but also knew that I just couldn't bear to leave anything behind to come back to get. There was nothing left for me here, nothing at all that could send a siren song after me. I just wish I could have seen my husband once more, could have to...
Green Crumbs
A pale 17-year-old boy rests his elbows on the glass table-top in front of him and leans forward to stare down a basket of fried wonton strips. The container is made of shiny metal, with nothing separating the polished steel surface from the hot, greasy, chunks of crisped wheat.Thom furrows his brow as he counts the inpidual dough pimples still sizzling on the outer layer of each one. The juxtaposition makes him queasy. Steam rises from the pile and beads of oil begin to accumulate below. He knows condensation will soon challenge each strip’s structural integrity, and the certainty of that out...