Me Time_They're Calling Off The War_The Gambler_Silver Sunflowers
Catalog Guide:
Me Time
It is January 1, 2022、I decided to get away for some me time.My husband has been driving me crazy. We have 2 dogs, 13 chickens, a rooster, a peacock, a turkey, two ducks, two african greys, and an amazon parrot. My sister came to visit christmas eve and brought along her two puppies. Her boyfriend Marc talked her into giving me one of them. So I decided to go to maine.I decided to go to sugarloaf. I took a bus to Maine. Then I took a cab to the resort. It has a 4,237 foot summit. The ski village has winter gear stores, descent restaurants, and a slope-side hotel complete with an outdoor hot tu...
They're Calling Off The War
("Mars" by Sleeping At Last)*"Did you hear them say the war's supposed to be over now?" Private Rodriguez whispered.Gina Sullivan couldn't help but groan into her pillow. "They've always said that, kid," she muttered. "We're still here and about as front-line as they get. If it were actually over, I feel like we'd be the first to know.""But what if it is?" Apparently the kid couldn't take a hint. Not even an explicit one, like shoving her head under her pillow. "What if they reached an agreement and now we get to go home?"Gina actually felt kind of sorry for Mike Rodriguez. He was newer, one o...
The Gambler
THE GAMBLERIn the middle of an autumnal Friday evening, Eva dashed across the honking gridlocked Brixton High Road, weaving her way to her local off-licence, clutching a large yellow rucksack. The plan was to stuff it with a litre of gin, soda water, Coca Cola, and a small pouch of rolling tobacco. Ignoring the blaring horns and cursing motorists clutching her rucksack which was now scraping against car doors, she wove back www.onedoor.ccthrough the mist and pollution, dodging the cars, heading for the cul de sac to her studio flat. As she passed Bolton Bookies to her right, she noticed an elderly man dress...
Silver Sunflowers
TW: Death When I heard Mummy call me home for lunch, I felt a little twinge in my stomach. It wasn't because I was hungry, that sort of throb was more of a call, like a car honk from my stomach, telling me I needed food. This ache felt like a soft warning, like a black cat, scampering up the street. I've always heard those were bad luck. Or perhaps not.Something seemed wrong, but I couldn't explain it. Was this guilt? Sasha told me that guilt feels like a monster is scratching at my feelings, burying me from inside. But what did I feel guilty about?Furrowing my eyebrows, I called back to my mo...