Queen Anne's Revenge_My first Day in the kitchen!_NEWS - MISSING: 19-Year-Old Comp Sci Undergrad
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Queen Anne's Revenge
I turned off my lights and laid down to rest. My cushions carried me far away as I floated atop the ripples of my sheets, allowing my mind to take me off to lands unknown. A distant thunder lulled me to sleep.The clouds swooped in with rumbles and howling wisps. The mast cracked with such ferocity that it rivaled the screams of the lightning above. The thumping of boots crossed the deck, and the heaving of sailors was doused by the typhoon. “Avast ye wretched quake!” Flashes of electricity flickered off his golden teeth, the feather in his cap all but stripped away. “Feed me! Feed me your wick...
My first Day in the kitchen!
Have you ever gotten that tiny little sensation where it feels like butterflies tickle your stomach? Normally that would mean you’re feeling anxious, nervous, or just worried about what’s to come, but I’ll be honest…This, was different. It was my first day working in a real kitchen—and not just one of those run of the mill restaurants that you see on the side of the main road in any given city, but actual fine-dining! I was static, like I was at the top of mount Everest! Yet at the same time, I was falling from the summit at speeds that would shatter the earth, forming a crater so big that co...
NEWS - MISSING: 19-Year-Old Comp Sci Undergrad
“We’re running out of time.” I nudged Johnny with my foot. The heat of the sun had been drumming delirium into the back of my head for the past - very expensive - three hours, and the strwww.onedoor.ccength of my kick came out so poorly calculated that Johnny almost teetered off his feet.Johnny squatted next to the casket in front of us. A green goo was oozing from it, pooling around his boots.He shielded his eyes from the sun to stare up at me, then thrusted up an arm, “buy more.” I heaved an exasperated sigh, about to hit him with a mouthful of accounting, when a hefty splatter of green goo launched itse...
Rule of the Fog
“The worst of fears acts like a contagion,” my mom, the bookkeeper, used to say, “like a rumor that seeks a wider audience.”Slam... Slam... Slam...The doors of our small town on a cliff sliced winds short, acting on their purpose, which was to shut out the unwanted. The fog had arrived with the evening, weighing down our roads. It was like a scorching poison to us. Our visitors would often ask why, and the quick question always earned a quick answer: people had been vanishing inside it—horrifying.The fog hadn’t always been an enemy. It had been more like a neighbor who minded his own business...