Solid Grounds_Night Terror_Mr. Cuddles_A Happy, Happy Agent
Catalog Guide:
Solid Grounds
“Can I get you anything else?” the wannabe barista asked, not having the courtesy of coming out from behind the counter. Juliet didn’t ignore the question—she just didn’t hear it. Her preoccupied eyes, red and moist, darwww.onedoor.ccted from the container in her right hand to the door in front of her and then back again. The cup had Juliet Lamb written in sharpie near the top. She wasn’t sure why she had given her full name when she ordered, maybe she thought it would make her bigger, like a blowfish under attack.The height and placement of the table were familiar to Juliet as was the contour of the chair....
Night Terror
1John woke up, turned over and looked at the clock beside him. 2:06 am. He sat up in a groggy daze and stretched his arms. He caressed the lump on the side of his head which felt like a hornets bite. The room around him was vibrating as he slipped into his jeans and pulled the hood of his black sweatshirt over his head. He blinked and was then standing in the kitchen. The linoleum floor was cold on his bare feet. He blinked again and found that he was now sitting on the floor with his muddy sneakers on. He tied the laces, got up, and walked over to the front door. A black ski mask was laying o...
Mr. Cuddles
The Spin Cycle.The most famous slope in the Crystal alps. Five miles of mountain range with an array of violent turns that gave the slope its name. For an experienced skier, it wasn’t particularly dangerous, but it was difficult. Relaxing for even a second would send you flying into the snow.Dario was plenty experienced, having done the circuit many times. He often came to the alps on the weekends, hoping to relive the adrenaline rush of his first run. This particular Saturday evening, his mother volunteered to drive him out. His six-year-old brother, Michael, tagged along. After reaching the ...
A Happy, Happy Agent
A Happy, Happy Agent“Hi! You must be Kathy! And you,” the chipper real estate agent points at my name tag, “you must be Scott!” I laugh along and nod, but with a quick glance at Kath, no one’s called her Kathy since Pre-K, I can tell she’s about ready to tap out of this tour. “I am,” Kath says through gritted teeth, she extended her hand to Lisa, our frizzy haired, red-headed agent. It is typical to have a personal agent for houses, but apartment complexes typically came with one, as shown by our guide standing in the doorway ahead of us. Lisa shakes her hand vigorously. Kath looks at me,...