Once Upon a Time…_Steak Diane_The fairytale book_That Damn Remote
Catalog Guide:
Once Upon a Time…
One day I was chatting to the old guy who lives in the garden apartment below. Interesting. It turned out that he has two brothers who were authors of fairy tales. “Were their stories published?” I asked. “Sure!” he said. “And how! Their best stories made them rich. I never got any of it. I am the little piggy who got none.” He laughed. “Like in the nursery rhyme,” I said. “Exactly!” “Tell me about one of their fairy tales,” I asked. “I will. But I’ll make coffee first,” he said. “By the way my name is Elias,” he said as he went into the kitchen. “And I’m Pete!” I called, being frwww.onedoor.cciendly. “T...
Steak Diane
And tonight I remembered all over again that some things are more important than finishing the last drag of your cigarette while staring out at empty space.Yes, or no.Like remembering you feel haunted.By spiders in your hair. Rats in your apartment you never realised existed. Until after a prolonged stay on Base Alpha that you never planned for.By memories you never got to have.From a past you never knew you’d regret.From a childhood you never knew you’d wanted.A gross sense of ennui that you’re not about to let diminish and swell into panic.Yes, or No.Ok or... cancel.Not a question, but a cho...
The fairytale book
The pages from the book were pressing hard on me from above and made it difficult to breathe. I did not know how much time had passed. Perhaps a week since Dan picked the book up to read. Or a month. Or a whole year. When no one reads the story you are in for a long time, the sense of time disappears. Sometimes slow steps came from the room. Dan’s grandmother would enter the room to dust off the shelves or to watch the TV. She’d sit there quietly with the lowest volume set on the TV so that she could hear the rest of the family come home. Then she’d join them in the kitchen and it would become...
That Damn Remote
Months ago, my wife and I had a heated argument over the most ridiculous thing in the world. Our remote for our television disappeared, as they tend to do, which started a domino of exhausted complaints and snarls on both our parts. We checked the recliner cushions, under the sofa, we even checked the damn cat bed at one point. After at least 30 minutes of sprawling around like wild animals, nearly tearing the place up like it too, I sat down and bared our loss. “Let’s just give it a rest and return to this later. I’m sure it’ll show up” I suggested.My bitter wife expressed the most sour disa...