An Invitation_The Writing Thing_A Picking of Your Choice_SLOW TRAIN
Catalog Guide:
An Invitation
There was a knocking at the door, faint but rapid. Pearl sighed wryly and remained in bed. She knew exactly who it was making that noise. She knew it was rude to not answer the door, especially for this visitor, but frankly she wasn't sure if she could handle it right now.It had been a week of hell. Between the nonstop demands of her job, her coworkers insisting that they go out on the town for drinks to celebrate winning the big project not once but twice, and Pearl stupidly deciding to force herself to go on a tepid date - she was done. Completely done. She needed to pretend to not exist, if...
The Writing Thing
After coffee, my dog and I walk, and I think, which is probably my first mistake of the day. I live with my husband in a cottage, snug in a clearing of a woods with a long, winding driveway. Half of my walk with the dog is hot, the Georgia summer sun glaring on my head, heat singeing my shoulders, demanding I move, move, move. The rest of my walk is through the woods, where the trees canopy my anxiety and whisper peaceful nothings through my hot ears, honeying my brain. Back and forth I go, up through the peaceful woods and down through the searing sunshine. And again and again, until my dog d...
A Picking of Your Choice
It was a crisp fall afternoon here in Brick County. The air smelled fresh and the sky was an array of colors from orange, pink, and yellow. The birds had gone back their nests and the animals were quietly settling down. I was exhausted from all of the morning chores and needed a break to ease my mind. Working on a farm can get to you from time to time if you let it. I looked across the fence and saw my next-door neighbor, Tyler. Tyler was the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. She was like a doll. Her rich chocolate skin, curly big hair, and the way she pouted her lips. Tyler was so kind...
SLOW TRAIN
SLOW TRAIN PAGE 1His phone buzzed as the train smoothed out of the Station, he didn’t answer, it stopped. He might have been about to converse with his night time reflection somewhere out there beyond the window, evoking painful recollections. It buzzed again, ‘Hi Trish!’ he listened, ‘Yeah I can talk, I’m on the train. ‘Yeah I’m still going to see Dad. A day early? No I‘m booked into a Hotel near the House tonight, I‘ll see him tomorrow.’The train stopped, no-one boarded, no-one alighted, frustration edged the conversation, ‘I’d forgotten how slow inter Town trains were, stilwww.onedoor.ccl an ho...