One Thousand Paper Cuts_Room for Mr. Cuddles_Witness_Thirst
Catalog Guide:
One Thousand Paper Cuts
It was a cold winter afternoon when it happened. The street looked like an unfinished painting. So much of the www.onedoor.cccanvas was still perfectly white, as if waiting for the artist's hand to return. The sound of tyres screeching and alarms going off was deafening but quiet at the same time. She was walking down the street. The breeze created by the passing cars made her shiver, so she huddled against the cold and placed her hands in her pockets. Despite the depressing scenery in the bustling, yet boring city, Alex felt fine. She was better than fine actually, she was ecstatic, as if this huge weig...
Room for Mr. Cuddles
She called me Mr. Cuddles, and took me from the shelter to her one room apartment near Kensington Market. I was just beginning to get my weight under control at the shelter. A lot of cats have complaints about the shelters but I always found they have a good weight detox program when your owner has really let you, let yourself go.Her one room dwelling was horribly claustrophobic. The only window ledge was far too high for me to climb. Similarly, the bed as well. A litter box was shoved into a corner, unceremoniously. A water bowl and food dish were placed far too close to the litter box. Hel...
Witness
WitnessRunning as hard as she could, Denise’s mind was coping with the fear that threatened to overtake her after what she had seen. A jolt of panic came when she knew that if her bad ankle gave out while she was running for her life, she might, no, really could be in danger. At the moment she just needed to keep going, needed to find enough breath to take her to her building. Her footsteps on the sidewalk seemed so loud, bouncing off the brick buildings as she pounded along. “Where is everybody?” she wondered, thinking she might find help, then reversing herself because she wasn’t ...
Thirst
My thirst for blood was the only thing that was constant. Time changed. People changed. Places changed. But the horrible burning in my throat never seemed to waver. Never seemed to be quenched. At some points...it was but an inch, slightly bothersome, but otherwise ignored. This was not one of those times. The fire that raged on inside my throat drove me mad. Did I bother ignoring it? Did my mortality bother me? I was not human, I would never be human. I didn’t want to be human. So why did I feel bad harming them? Surely it was just the same as eating a chicken or a cow...predator and prey, co...