Don’t Go_The Interception_cathedral_Sive Peregrinus
Catalog Guide:
Don’t Go
PremonitionWe had a family dinner every Sunday night. As family dinners go, this particular one was kind of nice. My brother was behaving, which my Dad liked to say, was about as rare as hen’s teeth. Mom and Dad were laughing and joking. Maybe I just remember that part of the night being better than it was, but the vibe was just a little bit different than usual. We were sitting around the table, eating and talking, nibbling on the scraps of our dinner that had long passed. It felt like no one wanted the night to end. It was so rare that we all had such a good time together. Dad would have to ...
The Interception
“Honey! I'm on my way,” Jake called. “Wait! Please! Just some seconds,” Gwen responded. “Ok.” She came out to meet him. “Dear, hope you’ve eaten something?” “Yeah. Sure.” “I’m so sorry I didn’t wake up early. I’d forgotten you were leaving very early today. I would have made your favourite. You should have reminded me last night.” www.onedoor.cc“No. Don’t worry. I’m OK. Didn’t want to bother you last night. I could tell you were tired.” “Yeah. Actually, I was.” “Honey, why don’t you go by air?” “No. I don’t really need to. The meeting is scheduled for 2 p.m. If I leave early I’ll be there just in time. I'll...
cathedral
Snap!My eyes widened, globes of murky brown fear fixating back on the path I had come from, ears searching for a sign of movement aside from the faint chatter of wildlife, the chirp of a lonesome, passing bird. I panted, heart racing as I waited but all I could hear was my own ragged breathing consumed with dread and unease.I didn’t have the luxury of time. I had to keep moving.Desperately trying to muffle my whimpers of trepidation, I moved through the forest quick and low, bare feet flying over logs, skidding over gravel. The bottom edging of my dress, once white and meticulous, was now dirt...
Sive Peregrinus
Novis was a small knit community, a town where everybody knew each other. It’s a quiet town where even the slightest whisper spread throughout, like a gust of wind working within a storm. One could only imagine the town’s reaction to a new figure, a man wearing a dirty old trench coat, styled with a top hat and finished in feathers with random odds and ends, marching upon Main Street with a staff in hand, as if to command an army. Whispers filled the shops and gossip about the old man voiced within the locals. “He looks like he hasn’t showered in days” spoke Jane Mulligan who was standing out...