Ten O'Clock_A Rude Awakening_The Navy Blue Chevrolet_Tea with Miss Crisp
Catalog Guide:
Ten O'Clock
The clock struck ten times, each ring seeming louder than the last, and the whole house reverberated with its tolling. Beth looked up from her book in surprise, as though it didn’t do this every day at exactly ten o’clock. Glancing back down at the words in her book, she realized she hadn’t moved the page in quite some time. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last thing she had read. Perhaps she had fallen asleep. The teapot sat cooling on the stove, leftover from when she had last fired it up. Though she suspected it was quite cold by that point, she considered pouring another cup all th...
A Rude Awakening
It was just like any other Saturday. I woke up without my alarm pestering me, which was always a lovely feeling. I got up but didn’t bother to get dressed since I had slept in my regular clothes. I had been so exhausted from work last night that I came in and immediately went upstairs and collapsed on my bed. I fell asleep within minutes, and I didn’t even have a chance to think about whether I should change out of my work uniform. I wondered if I would look weird going out in my uniform but I smiled at myself. My mum always told me not to care about what other people thought. “It’s your life,...
The Navy Blue Chevrolet
The navy blue Chevrolet was parked right outside the Metro Cash and Carry supermarket. On the first glance, nothing seemed wrong with it. But if one looked at it for even another second, they would know something was wrong.It was hard to pinpoint what that was. It was nothing too conspicuous, like a broken headlight or a flat tire. No, it was just the subtle aura that seemed to surround the car. It was like a little pool of poison, slowly spreading, growing larger, seeping into everything it touched.It was no surprise that the parking spaces around the car were all empty.The woman who owned th...
Tea with Miss Crisp
My mother once told me that if something didn’t make sense I should sit down and write about it. I should write the whole thing down, and then I would be able to make perfect sense of the matter. I fear my dear mother shall be proved well and truly wrong in this particular instance, but as I am under constant observation and have nothing else to do in this place, I suppose an attempt to make sense of the last twenty-four hours might be of some value. It cannot do any more harm—that much is certain.So, to begin. Yesterday morning began like any other in my rather mundanwww.onedoor.cce existence. I now find m...