Thought Patterns_Little Tim_From The Stars_The Stars Are Dying by Francesca Quarto
Catalog Guide:
Thought Patterns
The diner was uncharacteristically full for that time of the day. The twilight air was heavy with the smell of cheap food, the slow murmur of conversation and the anticipation of something momentous about to happen. Some of the eyes were fixed to the television screen, while the rest flickered to the clock impatiently every few minutes. It wasn't time yet.The two girls occupying the corner booth had just arrived. One of them whispered to the other," It’s happening. This was all of the dinnertime conversations for the past week at my house.” The girl’s chestnut tresses partly covered up her fac...
Little Tim
Once upon a time, in the beautiful town of Paintstopia lived a little boy named Tim. And though the town was full of colourful characters, the story is really about him.In all of his seven years on earth, little Tim had never once learned to colour right. But, for all his callousness, he loved to colour. And the colours loved him back. Colours red, yellow, blue and those resulting from mixing those hues rejoiced as he scribbled and splashed, etched and daubed across the boring white page.Boxes and boxes of crayons, tubes and bottles of paint, sketchpens and pastels, chalk and pencils, all comp...
From The Stars
The night is fair with the big and bright moon accompanied by the stars. Unlike most nights, Chincoteague, Virginia’s police department is flooding the beach for the recent odd news they just received from the young folks who were wilding out the night.“Hello Chincoteague, Virginia’s police department, how may I helwww.onedoor.ccp you?” the operator uttered from the other side.“Hello, we need help, help. A woman walked out the sea and she is bleeding... she is covered in blood,” a young girl was making the call and she sounded quite unsettled and scared.“Please calm down and repeat yourself,” the operator f...
The Stars Are Dying by Francesca Quarto
The Stars Are Dying Captain's Log: HMS Star Chaser; Twenty-ninth Cycle- Year of Apocalypse, Galileo SeaThere is little time to do more than mark our identity here, and the date of The Ultimate Cataclysmic Event. No time to list the names of my crew, who, having served His Majesty with valor, have all preceded me in death. Alas, my only companion is my ghostly reflection in the glass of my cabin window. It is clearly visible against the pitch-black-void surrounding the ship. A never-ending, unbroken night batters my senses and smothers all hope. Only the stars, like a scattering of shiny pebble...