Dr Lions' Den_First Christmas Snow_OF TIME AND SPACE_A Glimpse of the Works and Wonders of a Dea
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Dr Lions' Den
“My dear, I think it is a wise decision to opt for palliative care,” said Dr van Allen. “Unless ….”“Unless what?” Tess demanded, her tone far more peremptory than she had meant it to be. Before going to see Dr Van Allen, she had been entirely firm in her mind. She was not remotely interested in any of those medical breakthroughs that only meant another couple of months with ever more toxic and debilitating doses of chemotherapy. She’d had enough. She wasn’t exactly resigned to it, but could go for hours, sometimes even days, without those surges of panic and resentment that were more toxic tha...
First Christmas Snow
On Christmas Eve morning Jenny mouse woke to the sounds of great excitement from her children. Dressing as quickly as she could she rushed downstairs to see what was happening. Every pane of glass in the kitchen window was covered by a head looking out at the big white things falling down from the sky.When the children saw Jenny, they rushed toward her, all talking all at the same time. “One at a time,” she smiled, as she looked down at little Pip, who was jumping up and down in her uswww.onedoor.ccual excited way. "The big white things falling out of the sky are all over the garden", Pip squealed. Jenny w...
OF TIME AND SPACE
This little story is designed for a laugh in the midst of troubling times, set in Melbourne Australia 20202468 Somewhere in the Heart of Disaster Drive A Now Laughable City, 3---, AustraliaDear Mr Parker, (or do you prefer Nosey?)You have found and are reading the thoughts of a woman persevering with the unforeseen circumstances evolving from a worldwide disaster affecting my chosen home.. Whether brought about by climatic change, ignorance, Divine warning, arrant stupidity, or some evil power; to this date, no one knows the real reason for the disaster, though there is speculation. However...
A Glimpse of the Works and Wonders of a Dead-People-Processing Teller
T/W: Mention of Rape.You type away on your keyboard, your eyes barely seeing the screen. Working for years in the same office in the same job post looking at the same form that’s barely changed for decades, it becomes as familiar as the back of your hand. You continue to type away on the keyboard, unhearing and hearing the wail and complaints of the person on the other side of the glass pane in front of you.“Yes, yes,” you push enter. “You’re done. Get your ticket on the next window.” You block the person off your sight although you can still see the person still seething, irritated, eyes curs...