9 to 1 odds_The Night Creeper_Rosie's tale_Loved Ones
Catalog Guide:
9 to 1 odds
“Darla! Daarrrlllaaa!” I hear Caitie calling for me from the doorway of our little suburban townhouse. Part of me wants to turn around. To forget the mission and just go home to 12 Darling Drive and play the “good kitty” role forever. But I know what I have to do. I just hope Caitie can forgive me if I don’t come home this time. Please don’t judge me too harshly, it was never my intention to break a little girl’s heart. I guess I should probably start from the beginning. My real name is Alexandra Rogers. I am part of a secret organization called H.E.L.P that manages high profile, dangerous, in...
The Night Creeper
"Did you do it?" Terrance got a big smirk on his face as he looked at his anxious friend Marviwww.onedoor.ccn on his computer screen. "Yeah I did it." "Man you are fucking crazy, you spent ALL NIGHT in a grave yard." Marvin chuckled. "Wanna check out the video?" Terrance smiled proudly. "I'll send it to your phone." Terrance watched him on skype mesmorized by the video on his phone. He thought, ahh the beauty of technology. "Man this shit is creepy, all those head stones around. I understand you using the bright red sleeping bag, it's dark as hell out there. You couldn't pay me a million dollars ...
Rosie's tale
Right at the back of the library was a dusty shelf full of strange books that most people ignored. Sometimes a scatterbrained academic or a hipster with no sense of direction would take a wrong turn on the way to 19th century history or vegan fusion cuisine. Then they would catch sight of the strange dust jackets, and perhaps stop to read the titles and the blurbs. They invariably moved on, shaking their heads and laughing to themselves. Why on earth would anyone read that? The librarians only kept the books because it was wrong to destroy books, even when they went against the Truth.Kids some...
Loved Ones
We sat together on the couch in the living room. Our food was on the coffee table getting cold while Margherita and I were lost in conversation. I thought about how everything was just as how it used to be. I smiled as I watched her talk about the time this photographer stopped her on the sidewalk to take her picture for his portfolio or something. Margherita was gorgeous. She was a beautiful Italian woman with her bright blue eyes that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight and twinkle when she laughed, wavy brown hair that bounced ever so slightly when she walked because Margherita Giordano alway...