Seeing Further Blind_A Day for Remembering_The Plaque_Bor(ed)is
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Seeing Further Blind
TRIGGER WARNING: Please note that this story contains gore and some scenes that may not be suitable for young children.‘Everything was ready for the ritual’ was the email that Mary Sullivan received that morning, and a chill ran down her spine in anticipation. She remembered smiling and almost dropping her coffee mug into the sink at the sheer thought of tonight. But, instead, she made sure to double-check her belongings before leaving at dusk, saying that the ritual would work best without the glare of the purity of light. Children shrieked like banshees around her as she crossed the street o...
A Day for Remembering
1175 As I wrap a shawl around my shoulders, I catch my reflection in the mirror. Lines etch my face whispering of a life long-lived. I shake my head and leave my small home. Neighbors nod to me in greeting but say nothing and that is the way I prefer itwww.onedoor.cc. Especially today. Today was not a day for talking but for remembering. Even if I was the only one who did.1135 The echo of the dropped platter rings in the hall. Everyone looks at me. I do not look at them but drop to the floor. I’m supposed to be invisible; not drawing attention to myself. I scramble to pick up the fallen fruit as the conve...
The Plaque
On the wall there was a plaque:“Where are those who have gone before us? Have they gone to the Field and planted roses, Have they lain themselves down among traveling stones Do they turn to dust from flesh and bones?”She read the plaque aloud, then lay her hand on the stone wall. She looked tired, as though her legs were to ready to give out. Light from the torches along the walls augmented the exhaustion in her face. “We’ve a long way, yet.” I said, “I’ll carry you awhile.” “But we're out of food- of water, you'll tire out.” “I'll be fine, come.” I turned around and hunched over, “besides...
Bor(ed)is
Boris had woken up on the floor. He had a bed, but as usual when the nights were this hot, he couldn’t stand staying in it. Martin tried numerous ways of convincing him to stay in bed with him, but to no avail. Boris didn’t mind cuddling on the long winter nights, but in the summer, he needed his space. It was one of the things Martin just had to accept. Just like Boris tolerated Martin’s merciless snoring. Which, with his heightened hearing, was quite a challenge. Then they had breakfast – as usual, together. Eggs on toast for Martin, what Martin jokingly called granola for Boris. Martin spen...