Johnny_Dinner for Five_The Girl with Gossamer Hair_The Orpheum
Catalog Guide:
Johnny
“Someone get my boy!” John shouted, amongst the smoke, “don’t worry about me I’ll be fine. Get him! Hes downstairs and he’s paraplelegic. Get him out if you have to drag him!” John noticed it wasn’t fire fighters helping him, it was community members, and was confused but all he could focus on was Johnny. Downstairs the flames were quickly moving toward Johnny, who had just been put in his bed for the night by his nurse, Brenda. She started screaming and ran in the porch and yelled for help! There were a ton of fire fighters there but none could come in. What no one knew was they were all ...
Dinner for Five
The steaming kettle whistled on the stovetop and Mallory shuttered, jumping at the sudden sound breaking the noise barrier in her kitchen.Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.The large wall clock clanged back and forth amongst the silence in her apartment, the anxiety in her chest beating with each sounding. It felt as if the ticks and tocks were inside of her heart. However, what was truly in her heart was something much deeper. A secret. Mallory was pregnant.She didn't understand: how could something that so many people find exciting become her own tragedy? She was barely even twenty-two, and she was in t...
The Girl with Gossamer Hair
Warning: bullyingIt’s not easy being different. This is probably true the world over, but in my life, the hardest place not to fit in is my school: Manor Park. Here I often think there’s more than just water on tap in the corridor’s fountain; it’s dispensing your choice of still or sparkling pure liquid hate. Not everyone is filling up their bottle, but more than enough are.Do you wear glasses? Well hello bug eyes. Hand-me-down clothes are still just about good to go? Have you ever heard of…shops? Or perhaps you laugh like a donkey when the others just titter prettily? Where were you born? A ...
The Orpheum
(story contains salty language) Perfunctory meals. Astronaut food. Bright lights. Loud music. Tables jammed together so close the neighboring conversations sat in the back of their throats.“Why do we torture ourselves?” Davis asked.“Well, what do you want to do?” Kate replied.“Let’s head to the Orpheum.”“Now? I thought Drew said not to until later.”“Drew says a lot of shit.”“Well, this seemed important.”“Yeah, it is. It is. But this,” Davis held up a blanched, undercooked asparagus stem that bent at the waist like a sophisticated drunk, “is slow death.”“We still have to pay.”“I paid ten minute...