Terror Through The Glass_Fizzle_man 'hat' tan dreams_A letter to my first love
Catalog Guide:
Terror Through The Glass
“And the window, a delightful county view, really sells the place!” Mr Harris said with the kind of enthusiasm invented only to mask boredom. This couple was impossible, he thought to himself. Twww.onedoor.cche number of houses they’d been to today, he could no longer count. Too many, that’s all he knew; that’s all he needed to know. After allowing the pair enough time to admire the prospect but not long enough to detect any faults, he began to usher them on. Or at least he was planning to, until he saw the expression of terror that played upon both of their faces. What was it with them? Every pro...
Fizzle
“It’s like this,” Marta said, eyelids sleep-heavy. She leaned against the one intact chair in the dining room, relaxed enough to still seem a little bit drunk. Pratt squinted at her. “Like what?”“Like…” She gestured expansively around them. In the living room, the disco ball was still slowly rotating, the morning light casting a million silver glitters over the stained carpet and upended chairs. Pratt’s eyes snagged on a new splatter just under the psychedelic artwork Marta had brought home last month. She’d said it was innovative. Personally, he thought it looked about as innovative as dog ...
man 'hat' tan dreams
Yet another dreary night. The humdrum life had become so repetitive, she started to accept it as normal. Among the bustling crowds of the city stood the silhouette of a girl. Head hung low, she inhaled the traces of perfume and tobacco, mixing together to become a homogeneous substance to smoke second hand. It was...enjoyable, though no different from the night before. Her hair was not nicely combed or braided or gelled like the women walking by her. She had no furs or heels to her name. No sickly sweet voice. No hat. Was she still a lady? She giggled. Still a female at least.If one were to ac...
A letter to my first love
“Sleep is a notorious human activity. You see, it is the time when the human soul swings between life and death. Many like you and I survive but some proceed into deep sleep, which extends beyond the physical realm” you said to the five-year-old me who was cuddled beside you. The words ‘soul’, ‘life’ and ‘death’ seemed to be carved out of a mystical book until a year later, when you passed away in your sleep. For the world we were a family of three, but only you and I knew that only we two were the family. The man who used to share our accommodation. He was my father in the eyes of the world b...