Enough..._Cucumbers and Mochaccinos_The Repairman and the Illusion_Click, Click
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Enough...
Write about someone who’s so obsessed with a goal that it leads to the destruction of their closest relationship. I was trying to go to sleep, but something kept nagging me about this pandemic and how it was Enough. This is my experience, but feel free to share yours. For me, it is no matter how carefully I budget my food, right down to the last carrot and rice packet, after not working for so long...I am never full enough. And no matter how carefully I budget my medications, and Lord knows I cwww.onedoor.ccan't afford to get drunk enough...I can never feel truly good enough. Not to mention, no matter how ...
Cucumbers and Mochaccinos
“The thing that almost nobody knows about the cucumber is that it's a fruit."That's what Midge Johnston liked to tell her neighbors when she dropped off a basket of the dark green and still-spiny foot-long beauties. Her garden produced far too many for her and Henry to eat on their own, no matter how many salads they made or jars they pickled. She would watch her neighbors’ expressions as they processed the new information. “No,” they would say in disbelief, followed by, “I always knew that about tomatoes, because everyone thinks they’re vegetables, but cucumbers?”She would nod and smile broad...
The Repairman and the Illusion
His name was Ehrich Weldon and this was his email to Repairing Hope. Dear Mr. Repairman, It is my sincerest hope that, as the name of your organization suggests, you will be able to help me in my quest to leave my current situation. I heard about your work through a mutual friend. He assures me that you would be just the person to assist me. I am a gunsmith by training however, I’ve always been interested in the mechanics of illusions; how magicians create illusions or props for their shows. My real passion is restoring props used by the magicians of the golden age of magic (1850-1930). ...
Click, Click
Well, golly-gee and wow; I really did not think things would go that way!My name is Horatio. Horatio K. Sweeting (don’t ask what the K means; I won’t tell). I am a shelter boy, a bunker baby; an underground groundling (read that word somewhere, so I will use it, by gum). My father built this place way back when TV was still in black and white and no one had the corking idea to make a videotape so that we could save everything. But he knew; he knew. We had the latest stuff in there and when we knew that the human race was not going to make it past that age, we all settled in. When I say ‘we’,...