The Iris of the Wrong Path_How the Story Ends_The Red Lion_An Unexpected Christmas Turn
Catalog Guide:
The Iris of the Wrong Path
Through thick red and white flashes, you break into the giant glass doors. Your whole body pulsates from cold ebbs and warm flows that leave cracks on your porcelain nerve system. As you enter dead blue space, a massive nurse jumps on you like a hungry-for-victory-quarterback and knocks down. The sound of a cracked ripe pomegranate fills the hall as your crucified spine finds itself under her heavy breasts.“Do you have a corona?” A muted voice escapes through a nurse’s white helmet.“No” you wheeze, avoiding touching somebody's black hair on the floor. “An injury…”“That's what you all say” she ...
How the Story Ends
‘Tell me a story,’ Savannah says. It always starts with a story. And sometimes, if we’re lucky, it ends with one. I ask her what kind of story, and she shrugs. ‘Paint me a picture,’ she says, moving closer to me on the sofa and leaning her head on my shoulder. Then she closes her eyes, as though blocking out the coffee shop around us. The scratched glass table in front of the sofa, covered in board games. The upright piano in the corner, with an A key that sticks, and the armchairs next to it. And further away, the bar and an ever-revolving cast of customers, sitting down with their laptops a...
The Red Lion
I met Dave at The Red Lion, one of our old haunts from the time we worked together twenty-two years before. My memory of that time was not great because, to be honest, it was pretty boring. I was an IT contractor and Dave was not exactly my boss, but a senior employee of the client with a supervisory role over my job. So far, so dull. However, fortunately for me, Dave was a decent guy and fun to be with. We went out drinking fairly regularly after work. He was into rock music and football and knew how to have a lauwww.onedoor.ccgh. We weren’t best mates or anything but more than just work colleagues. There...
An Unexpected Christmas Turn
I shot a glance across the open office. Mac and Donna were laughing as our boss made a fool of herself trying to act out some undecipherable charade from an enigmatic film. I was hopeless at remembering film titles. Our office Christmas party was in full swing. Pathetic. Throwing money away on useless gifts no one ever wanted in the first place. Wasting food on already over-nourished inpiduals, who should be going on a diet instead. Why couldn’t people be generous and cheerful the rest of the year, why did they have to wait for Christmas? I shrugged and swung my legs off the desk, grabbed my ...