Doom of the Living_Blind path_Life Changer_Old Fashioned Memories
Catalog Guide:
Doom of the Living
It was early in the morning of July 13, 2192 as I ate my literal last crumb. As I sat in the darkness of my little apartment, my glass of murky water and my piece of rye bread, my stomach cried in pain. And in the darkness of that room, I ate it in one bite. The world outside wasn’t a pretty place. The old neighborhood from close to two centuries ago ago was a wasteland, apartment buildings toppled, streets covered in the dead, dogs picking at their maggot-infested remains. But in the darkness of that room, the telescreen mounted on my wall playing the news of that morning, I found myself comp...
Blind path
“What global warming?” they asked “It’s freezing cold here! And if we have a bit of sunshine up here, hey, am not going to get in panic!” I recalled my parents’ frenzied tone the last time when I saw snow. I was a child then, and now when I noticed my first white hair, it’s snowing again. Mother and father are not with us anymore, and I can’t look at the chilly flakes as a sort of evidence the same way they did. Something has changed, call it climate or anything, the clouds sitting on the edge of the horizon, the butterflies I used to see, the heat our fish can't bear...Now, I see hope in the...
Life Changer
It is on the first day of the year, every year, that my job comes into effect. For the rest of the year, I prepare. I am like that painter that spends days looking at her subject without touching a brush and then, when she is finally ready, finishes her painting with a few, rapid, master strokes. A person comes to me, they want to change their lives completely, and I do just that. On the first day of the new year they are someone different. My job is done, I disappear. Almost no one has regretted it and asked me to go back to their previous life. There is no going back, they can only change ag...
Old Fashioned Memories
It had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. The furniture was old but well kept, except for Grandpa’s recliner. Grandma had done her best, she was sure, but the worn and slightly stained arms told a story of football games and wings and late night PB&J sandwiches. She wandered through the living room looking at all the photographs. There were many from the latter years, Grandma in the garden posing next to a plant that had really flourished under her green thumb, Grandpa standing next to the vintage muscle car he had worked sowww.onedoor.cc many summers to ...