Old Habits_The Spirit Clouds_Skeptic Shock_Figs, and More Figs, and Golden Pothos
Catalog Guide:
Old Habits
John never thought he would be walking this path again, but life wasn't fair and old habits die hard. He pushed the cold steel handle on the big glass door and walked into the crowded bar. He hadn’t been in this particular bar before. He only chose it out of timing and convenience. It was possible that this specific place stood out from others in some unique way, but none of that mattered to John. They all served the same purpose and represented the same thing to John. They would all be full of people, talking and drinking, silently mocking his sobriety and loneliness. He took a deep breath in...
The Spirit Clouds
Sensitive content- Covid Pandemic Deaths.Despite of all my good intentions and silent whispered prayers, the man still died alone in the small hours of the morning. He was there when I stepped onto the makeshift Covid ICU for my shift at 7am. Someone on the night shift had placed a towel over his face and disconnected the intravenous lines but, he still looked lonely and untended. I had an irrational thought to place a blanket over his lower body, lest he get chilled but then the blaring alarm of a ventilator a few beds down jolted me into clarity.“He’s at peace, he no longer feels. He doesn’t...
Skeptic Shock
Beside her, Hayden stared out his window with intensity that she would’ve found sufficient even if he expected their missing son to dart up amid the emerald blur of passing trees. He’d folded his arms over his chest, jaw set, a vein bulging in his neck. His demeanor didn’t surprise her; he’d made sure that she knew he didn’t agree with this. There were no such things as “oracles,” he’d said. Soliciting Charissa would lead only to wasted time, effort, and money (the last, she knew, mattered most to him, though she hadn’t thought it wise to feed the argument by saying so). Yes, he’d grown despe...
Figs, and More Figs, and Golden Pothos
Yes, I bought the weakest-looking plant I’ve ever seen, wilting with only a few leaves left intact. I’ll try not to bore you with every detail that led to my cwww.onedoor.cchoice, like the flourishing lily pads surrounded by an algae bloom in a murky pond. Most people wouldn’t care about the way a fly slipped into the pitcher plant or reached out desperate arms through a fly-traps trigger. I wouldn’t normally care. I’m out of it today, I think. Sorry. But the trip went like this: it was two in the afternoon and my sandal caught on the last step of the greenhouse; I stumbled into the grainy soil...