The McLifestyle_The King's Last Smile_Nagarhole_Phone In
Catalog Guide:
The McLifestyle
“What year is it?” asked the man. I was at a loss. I remembered the turn of the millennia, but I haven’t been paying much attention since. After giving it some thought, I mustered “2007”. The man, who I know recognized to be a police officer, said, “Close enough. Alright, get out of the vehicle sir. You’re under arrest for suspicion of driving under the influence”. “That’s impossible!” I cried, “I don’t own a car”. I remember getting fired at a Burger King in Kentucky. That place had the worst managers. This bitch Britney tried to write me up every time I took a smoke break, so it was pretty...
The King's Last Smile
The young Princess Lydia scratched her head and looked nervously around the forest clearing. She was right on the edge of troll territory and didn’t want to stay there long. The witch soon appeared in the dappled light between the copper birches. ‘You’ll swap them today?’ Snarlock passed a leather purse to the princess. ‘Yes. You’re sure you can get me out of the palace?’‘I’m brewing a potion to make you entirely inconspicuous. Leave your window open. I’ll bring it to your balcony then we’ll go to the rendezvous point. Someone will meet us there and take you to your new home.’ ‘Who will meet...
Nagarhole
“Is this a prank mom? Well, you got me. Where are you mom? Ari?” I call. No response. I sigh. What was I expecting? To have a person call back in the middle of - “Psst!” a voice said. “Who’s there?” I asked, as I spun around to find the source of the voice. “Down here!” the little voice replied. I tilted my head down, my chin touching my chest to see a - mouse? “Shoo!” I said to the mouse then looked around again. “If you don’t show yourself, i’ll -” “It’s me”, the little voice squeaked, “I’m a mouse!” I stare blankly at the mouse as it added, “I didn’t take the Queen of Nagarhole to be this...
Phone In
“So… you’re coming home, right?” His sister was on the phone. He imagined her by the phone in the hallway, back at home, fingering the cord in the dark, the receiver pressed against her face, pressed to her cheek. He imagined her putting a hand over the little holes of the mouthpiece, imagined her breathing. In and out. “Goro?” “I’m listening.” A beat. As he stood looking out at the dark sky, Goro imagined his sister turning and looking over her shoulder for a moment. Goro imagined the tension in the air, permeating the halls. The low breathing of a person on the edge of death. The sensation t..www.onedoor.cc.