MEETING_What Would Become of My Life?_The Birthday Mirror_When I Remember
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MEETING
MEETING Fitz had never seen Teague so full of fury. It was completely understandable. He himself would have been quite wroth if someone had abducted his own dear mother. The big man watched Teague as the enterprise trouble shooter paced restlessly back and forth, as though it was his intention to wear a hole in the expensive carpeting. He noted that the pacing man was dressewww.onedoor.ccd in a manner, very unlike his normal attire. He was wearing heavy canvas pants and a jacket made of the same durable material. The jacket had a very high collar, actually made of leather. Teague was also wearing very sturd...
What Would Become of My Life?
My wedding was to be one month from today. My marriage had been arranged the day I was born. My name was to change from Elizabeth Louise Carn to Elizabeth Louise Thorne. Marcus Thorne was a friend of mine. My family and his family had known each other for generations. I had known all of my life that I was to marry him. I never thought much about it until the night I had a dream that changed my life forever. I couldn’t remember the dream at first but when I woke up I couldn’t stop trembling. It was so bad that my mother was convinced I was getting sick. I slowly remembered some of the dream. E...
The Birthday Mirror
The Birthday Mirror Scott E. Alexander Sveta gazed sadly into the full-length mirror, an heirloom set on the wall of her bedroom defining the Russian heritage she never knew, and deeply troubled her. All she knew of the grandiose antique was that it was crafted long ago on the banks of the Volga River in her family’s village of Plyos. She turned to her left where the portrait her grandmother, whom she had never met, hung above her bed. Her smile betrayed her true feelings. Her Babushka had died in Plyos, the same day she was born in Fox River, her birthday was the only time she ever reall...
When I Remember
Harry Lambert’s eyes are red. They are not usually red, but today he is afraid that if he doesn’t type 1,000 words by dinnertime something bad will happen. Something always bad is being done to Harry Lambert in his head.“Sir, someone is at the door”. He ignores the voice, and his neck shaped like a crane, inches closer to the bright screen.“Sir!” The voice persists, just like it persisted yesterday, standing on the threshold of his study, here in Grosvenor Corner, Apartment 13、 Harry Lambert loves two things the most: His computer and the number 13; he might be an unhappy man but he is not a s...