Hinges of Destiny_Pinch Point_Damn, This Traffic Jam_She Swirled the Tea Slowly
Catalog Guide:
Hinges of Destiny
“Choices are the hinges of destiny.” PythagorasThis is a story of two women, one my mother, Cathy, and one whose name is unknown, so I will call her Mary. Dr. Rosner played a significant role in both of these women’s lives. Cathy’s story is true; however, Mary’s story is mostly speculation.1975 - Not long after she and Bill decided they were ready to become parents, Cathy felt the changes in her body. Cathy wrote in her journal, “Today is the first confirmed day. About two hours ago the doctor informed me that I’m pregnant.”1971 - A woman in Chicago discovered that she was pregnant. Mary felt ...
Pinch Point
The chair screeches on the hard floor and clatters over backwards as he reaches over the metal table and takes hold of my throat. I start at the instant flood of adrenaline the sudden sound provokes but it takes a moment or two longer to realise what’s going on: that he’s intending to throttle me.I stare at him, wide eyed. I’d already noted, during the early parts of the interview, his bald head, the ring in one ear, the subtle sneer curled into the thin upper lip, the tattoo of a knife on his neck, and I’d thought how silly to put a tattoo where, if you ever didn’t want it, it couldn’t be hid...
Damn, This Traffic Jam
Damn, this traffic jam How I hate to be late It Hurts my motor to go so slow Damn, this traffic jam Time I get home my supper'll be cold Damn, this traffic jamCapella song by James Taylor runs through my head every night at quitting time when I am stuck in this traffic jam to get on the highway home. I should’ve written that letter to the mayor letting him know that an fifty percent increase in population means we have to widen the roads to accommodate it. Nothing ever gets done and we sit in this traffic wondering how long it will take us to get home. That Ford pickup in front of me could u...
She Swirled the Tea Slowly
She swirled the tea slowly.Marian leaned back into her couch, sinking into the cushions and preparing forwww.onedoor.cc a long night in. She twisted and turned to bundle her way in under the handmade quilt, her hands cupping the tea cup in every attempt to stay warm. Though a fire blazed, it was still confined to the small space of her wood stove. But even had it been a giant roaring fireplace, nothing could’ve stopped a chill creeping into her bones. The storm outside was simply too cold. A constant thud was heard as the windows held strong against the storms winds. The sole barrier between her and the sto...