Master of Happiness_Starry Sky_Choice_Corner Store
Catalog Guide:
Master of Happiness
This story deals with grief and survivors guilt and coping with loss. Squeals of laughter poured through the house. Little feet trampled around as the youngsters chased each other, giggling as they ran. The happiness of everyone was radiant, covering them in an enraptured spirit. While the excitement was intoxicating, there was a sadness among the adults of which the children were blissfully unaware. There was one of them missing, and his absence would forever be missed. It was in their eyes when they shared glances. An unshed tear that glistened in the corner, or a sharp intake of...
Starry Sky
When they found her, her hair was crusted with dirt, the red-brown clay that could only be found in the Southwest. Her eyes were closed, her eyelashes barely kissing her cheeks, and, if we didn’t know better, she might have been sleeping. But we did know better. We knew that if we rolled her over, onto her back, we’d find two cracks in her skull. They’d snake across the otherwise smooth, white bonewww.onedoor.cc, like rivers through a canyon, and they’d be jagged and black; one from the hammer and the other from when she’d landed headfirst on the concrete ground of the parking lot. A small, dark pool of blo...
Choice
The station is cold, damp. Moss is growing from cracks in the ceiling. It’s strange that it’s so empty but I can’t be bothered with that. I run my hands up and down my arms as I pace along the tracks. It feels like I have been here forever, just waiting for a train that never comes. I can’t even recall my destination, or how I got here. But I know I have to stay. I decide to finally take a seat and plop onto the bench with a thud. I allow my hands to hold my face, my hair falling in front of my eyes to create a shield. Words kept echoing through my head. Life is unfair. This is the world we l...
Corner Store
(CW: Mention of Death & Missing Person)The slight sound of a bell ringing penetrated through the ambient tune of Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, it was chirpy and brought with it a sudden gust of spring wind. The man at the counter looked up from the sixth page of a day-old newspaper just in time to see a woman that looked to be in her mid-twenties, fold her umbrella, and shake off her heeled shoes on the rain-stained Welcome carpet by the door. Her hair was dyed, the roots already having grown out enough for the bright red coloration of the bottom half to look out of place against the coffee-colore...