Good Will at the Corner of Fifth and Broad_Cognac Lilac_Electrifying_The Information Revolution
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Good Will at the Corner of Fifth and Broad
People who say ten thousand bucks isn’t life-changing money don’t know Diedre Morgan. In a time when pro ball players pay fifty to a hundred large for missing a practice or a media day, and celebs pay that much or more for a week of rehab,www.onedoor.cc ten grand ain’t a Hell of a lot. But when you work two jobs not only for the money to support a drunken, shiftless, louse of a husband and a hypochondriac mother but also for the peace of mind that comes with getting out of the house, finding ten-thousand dollars in a sports coat is a life-changing maybe even a life-giving event.After an all-night shift at t...
Cognac Lilac
He pulled me onto his lap, lifting my skirt, and I awkwardly wrapped my legs around his waist. In one motion, he moved so that I was beneath him, my bare ass against the leather interior of the backseat of his luxury SUV. I pulled him closer to me and he kissed my open mouth, and I felt like we were no longer separate people but one singular being leaving the living world and entering the dream world we shared, just us and our naked bodies. I saw vibrant, shining colors behind my eyes, colors that I’d never seen before, and then he moaned into my neck and it was over.He leaned his head against...
Electrifying
Four female friends who used to work together were enjoying their monthly chat over coffee and pastries. In the past they'd worked for a company called Weston, whose attitude towards women was appalling. Criticism of their work and overt sexism was rife. One particular director was known for lunging at a woman if he caught her off guard in the canteen. "Give us a kiss darling," he'd say with a strong whiff of halitosis, or "Nice puppies. Do they want to come out to play," whilst staring down her cleavage. Women were classed as lackeys and expected to do the mens' work as well as their own, for...
The Information Revolution
Once a month on a random day, Hazel woke at the crack of dawn with a cup of blood that she had bought at the local butcher shop which she dumped on the steps of the mega bookstore chain—just beyond the reach of the security cameras. Some days she jogged; some days she rode her bike. But she would always stop in the parking lot to catch her breath, and with no one around, she would casually pour out the cup at a height that created a dramatic splatter effect. And then, like every workday, she showered at home and opened the doors to the library at 8:30am to a small group of parents with their t...