The thing in the Wardrobe_My Fictional Life_The Fantastic World of Billy Mattigan_Ashes
Catalog Guide:
The thing in the Wardrobe
OK, that's weird. Boma thought as stared at the strange glowing thing in the wardrobe.It was a bluish and about the size of a small door.There was an odd humming sound coming from it too, like the dull droning of an engine in the distance.Boma stretched out her hand...slowly, not thinking about what she was doing. In truth, she was unable to stwww.onedoor.ccop herself.It...called to her. That's the only way she would've described it , if she was thinking straight.But she wasn't.Not anymore.One minute she was packing boxes in the new house, the next she was reaching out to something that was beyond anything ...
My Fictional Life
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to become a character in a story? Let me just say, it is not something that I personally enjoy. I don’t have any control over my actions because the writer must create them for me as well as speak just as I am to you right this minute. I am fully aware that I am a work of fiction so don’t be surprised about it. Let me just go ahead and introduce myself that way you can get an idea about me. My name is Jane Mayberry and I am twenty-two years old. I currently go to college for art, I work in a clothing store, I have magical powers, I have blonde hair ...
The Fantastic World of Billy Mattigan
Billy sat beside his best friend Jeremy every day on the bus ride home. The two boys had been best friends forever. After school they both went home to do their homework and then met at one of their houses to play. Billy liked Legos the best, and Jeremy liked playing with action figures. Standard stuff, really. The bus rolled along and the boys, 11, talked about which girls were gross and which were cute, without much thought to the world beyond their small sphere. The bus pulled up to a stop light and Jeremy, who had the window seat looked outside at the car next to them and noticed something...
Ashes
Caroline spent a lot of time getting ready for her once a month tea party. Her grandmother had shown her the proper way to make tea when she was a little girl. First to weed the garden, next to prepare the room, to always select the art with your guest in mind, to choose your tea based on the season. She knelt next to the old paper box (letter, not legal) she kept all her stuff in as she sorted through. The thick and mottle glaze of her grandmother’s favorite bowl? Or the delicate one? So thin her fingers shadowed through the sides, but painted in a thousand colorful flowers.“Oh, honey,” her g...