my corner of the world_The Big Boddy Business_The Centre_Jo watching, Jo killing, Jo dead
Catalog Guide:
my corner of the world
I didn’t realize just how much I could re-discover about myself just by returning to the place I’d spent the majority of my childhood. The place I felt was truly home. Those days now seem so much easier, long before being influenced by others, their expectations, by my own insecurities. Back then, in my hometown, those things were all irrelevant, yet to come. I don’t remember ever worrying about what I’d be doing five years www.onedoor.ccfrom now. I was never worried about having perfected college applications or how popular I was or wasn’t or whether I should send my crush a rap song to seem cool or a song...
The Big Boddy Business
I didn’t ask to be a Boddy. I knew what they did, knew what I would be inheriting when my grandfather passed away-years, perhaps even centuries, of blackmail, people beyond count that I would be expected to collect money from and new victims to rope in nearly by the hour. Because of all the social media and the completely digitized lifestyle of today, it was even easier for my grandfather to collect dirt, and I would, in turn, be expected to do the same. Now I know what you are probably wondering. How does the Boddy name still live? Robert Boddy died so long ago in that horrendous murder party...
The Centre
Ella opens her eyes to the sound of the trolley wheels on the tiled floor of the corridor. It is 7AM. She is not sure if the trolley itself has woken her, or the wintry light seeping through the thin, green curtains, or simply the fact that she wakes every morning at this time and has done for as long as she can remember. She yawns and stretches, the rough woollen blanket slipping off of her legs with the movement and pooling on the floor beside her narrow bed. But she does not get up yet. Her room is right at the end of the corridor, so the knock signalling for her to rouse herself will not c...
Jo watching, Jo killing, Jo dead
Jo was 96% sure what had happened, but she was less than 37% sure that anyone would believe her. She wasn’t much more sure that she believed herself. The entire walk to the police station, she did nothing but rehearse the words within her head, what she might say when giving the report.Yes officer, I have just witnessed a murder. In an alley between Dolly and Whelton. Who died? Why, it was me! Who did it? Well, that was me too. But no, it wasn’t Jo. And yet it had been! The women wore the same dress as Jo, had the same penny loafers with the little scuff on the inside of the left shoe, even ha...