Dreaming of Morris_The Dragon Who Would Be Queen_Organ Debter_The Homes We Come To
Catalog Guide:
Dreaming of Morris
I quit. I can’t take the dread and agony any longer. I am no Morris James. I am no Royal Reptile. I'm deathly afraid of landing in jail or a psychiatric ward again.For a second consecutive night, I cannot sleep. It’s four in the morning and I want to drive www.onedoor.ccto the beach. Again. Tonight, though, I want to take the chance I didn’t last night, when I snuck out of the house I share with my mother, got into my car, filled my tank with gas, bought a packet of five bourbon-flavored cigars, and drove to a street close to Pacific Coast Highway and adjacent to the shoreline, where I wanted to swim into t...
The Dragon Who Would Be Queen
Ina stretched out her wings in her cavern, admiring the hoard she had collected over the years. Her blue scaled shimmered on the rocks as she yawned her great maw. The silly mammals of the kingdom had grown wise and paid her tribute regularly now. Golden coins, gems of the finest quality, gold bars, and jewelry, arms and armor, and the bones of livestock sacrificed to her decorated her spacious cavern. At the beginning they had tried to fight. The paladins, monster hunters, adventurers, and soldiers had attacked her regularly and Ina had slain them all with fire, tooth, and talon. A few raids ...
Organ Debter
“So, what’s the catch?” “Ain’t no catch. You pay cash now, or...” The Collector glanced at my chest, half hid beneath the table. “… you pay with your, uh, you know.” I pulled fresh bristles of a growing beard under my palm. “What kind of organs are we talking?” From his back pocket, he produced a laminated card; the thick plastic felt like a small Waffle House menu. Though, this room didn’t smell like bacon and eggs, this room smelled like Clorox covering for mildew. “My name is Lance, by the way. Figure we’re on a first name...
The Homes We Come To
2024 AD. The van that had picked us up from the rehabilitation centre stops at a ridge. Dense, dark greenery fills our vision. We are home! finally. To be honest, I never knew much about my ancestral home. In fact, even my mother or father did not grow up here. They too grew up in their adopted country, mingling with others who had arrived from similar backgrounds. They had limited access to the woods, just so that they could retain their instincts. Or so I imagined. I never had a chance to know them well enough. By the time I was weaned away from my mother, she had already disappeared. Father...