Garden of Lies_The Storm_Diamond-shaped hole_A Loving Murder
Catalog Guide:
Garden of Lies
*TW: Child Neglect, Light Gore* The evening chill touched his sensitive skin. Atlas watched as his mother performed her ablutions on her new gardening tool. He thought— as he washed his cloak— that it was utterly unnecessary. He continued scrubbing at the mucky vestment in a bucket of soapy water; Atlas couldn’t help but scowl at the deluge of sheets waiting to the side. Each spot of blood or dirt from his weekly fights made his skin itch with rage. Two Valley Elves domiciled in the kingdom had been hiding behind trees on one day each week with their lives devoted to tormenting him. ...
The Storm
The last thing I remember was the loud, cracking splitting sound of the huge fir tree near the back of the house after it had been swaying fiercely and finally bending and giving way to the pressure of the 65 mph winds. I work for Lucy, a sweet 89-year-old lady whose family practically founded this small rural town and who still owns thousands of acres of land. Her house sits at the top of a rural road surrounded by large fir, maple, and spruce trees her mother planted when Lucy was a little girl. Lucy’s parents were into cattle, horses, and logging in the 1930s and built quite the cwww.onedoor.ccommunity ...
Diamond-shaped hole
I sit behind the wheel of my Camry, my face full of make-up, and bawl my eyes out. The beating of my heart hasn’t stopped so I place my hand on my chest. I suck in huge chunks of air and slowly release. My throat is a desert. The sun is doing a madness and as I bake in my jalopy held together with duct tape and hope, the white and red concoction on my face starts to melt. I pull off my rainbow wig. Right now, I don't want to feel like a clown. Besides, the magic was dead. Between sobs, my will gives way, shoulders buckle and head falls to the steering. A large honk goes off and I recoil in pai...
A Loving Murder
CONTENT WARNING: Assisted suicide, descriptions of violence, mentions of war, vulgar language See, you all think I am about to say I don’t regret what I did. I just did it for fame. But what you don't know is that murder happens all the time under your pretty little noses. Your little gerbil was killed by your cat and you don’t condemn him. You know foxes are killing cute rabbits and yet, you give your kids stuffed foxes and call them sweet names. People do not murder, animal instinct does. Men are full of it, women just like to taste a bit, and in my case, I got drunk on that animal instinct....