Chinatown_The Warrior's Dilemma_Thank You for the Memories_The Love Of His Life
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Chinatown
The grimy tiled walls of the curved underground tunnel rushed by as gloomily lit wall lanterns pulsed out of the darkness, marking unseen intervals as the train sped to the next stop. We hit top speed for just a few moments before the gears began their gradual wind-down as we slowed again. The linked cars rattled and swayed and screeched as we burst into the light of the LaSalle Street station. The 5:43 stopped and slid open its doors, and the train became engorged with commuters. Many more streamed down through the turnstiles as we pulled away, quickly accelerating towards the next platform b...
The Warrior's Dilemma
TW: violence, slurs, war Despite the encouragement and training that Stephen had received over the years which confirmed that he was choosing the right course of action, something inside of him tugged at the reins, urging him to reconsider. As Stephen worked the rope around the man’s wrists and secured them tightly around the thick vertical support beam behind him, Stephen watched the man’s naked chest heave and tremble. It moved in concert with the man’s pleas, which, presumably, was meant to convince Stephen to stop what he was doing. The man’s voice exchanged nonsensical syllables like that...
Thank You for the Memories
That's the thing about this city...It gets in your blood. Those that were not born in this small city, USA, berg of central north America, simply do not understand. It is a bit like the Hotel California where, "you can check out anytime, but you can never leave". I was born in this city. I lived the first eighteen years of my life in this city. I reached epic monumental milestones in this city. I left this city. I no longer live in this city. Yet, when I visit, it feels like a place lost in time. Nothing has changed, yet everything is different. I fail to recognize the new buildings and busine...
The Love Of His Life
#96 XENIA 2259 wordsThe Love of His LifeShe shuddered as she looked into a room, the guest room, she supposed, although she had known it by many other names since the home’s construction in 1993、 "That room up there", the "empty room", "his old room", "Dad’s room", until finally, "the guest room".It was just a small room probably 12 foot by ten, with a regular size closet that had sliding wooden doors, the cheap kind that always had to be reset on the track above. It was bigger than a jail cell, but for one of the family’s members, it had become a jail, where they had done time as long, and as...