The Boy in the Pink Tuxedo_Monument of Consumerism_An unusual walk_Stoicism
Catalog Guide:
The Boy in the Pink Tuxedo
I met the love of my life at someone else’s prom.He wasn’t my date.My date was a lovely young woman whose name I can’t remember. What I do remember is that her dress was blue the way Southern debutantes in movies always wear blue dresses. At least from the movies I’ve seen. It was blue, but not puffy, and I was grateful for that. I’m resistant to puffy. Puffy and poofy. I can’t tolerate either.We attended her senior prom together, because her boyfriend had just broken up with her the week before and she was heartbroken. The big night wwww.onedoor.ccas a week away and the non-puffy blue dress had already bee...
Monument of Consumerism
It was my own fault to even be in this situation in the first place. Every year I do this to myself and every year I always promise that I will never do it again. Every year I promise that I will change, turn over a new leaf, call my Mom more, read a book, something. This year proved itself to be no different. I stood where I have stood for as long as I can remember, the mall on Christmas Eve. I have an uncanny ability to end up here, some sort of gravitational pull that lures me every 24th of December like a moth to a flame. I sit in my car blasting Black Sabbath, to me a nice ju...
An unusual walk
Soft light glowed through the sleepy mist that hung over the river as the sun fought to rise on this unusually mild February morning. Birdsong decorated the bare tree branches high above, a lively orchestral soundtrack to my early morning walk. I inhaled the fresh aroma that emanated from the moving body of water as we plodded along the tow path, happy to fill my lungs with the crisp air and its early spring scents. I noticed the odd snowdrop daring to peek at the world and felt an excited wave of hope at these first signs of lovely new growth. It was good to move my achy bones after being so ...
Stoicism
“Well, that was dramatic.” Arthur said out loud to the empty room, looking towards the open window from where his longtime colleague, Neville Flange, had just defenestrated himself. With a sigh Arthur got up from his creaky office chair, totteted a few steps in the direction of the window, then abruptly came to his senses and swerved back towards his desk. Having never claimed to be of especially hardy stock, Arthur could not imagine it would do him much good to gaze upon whatever shape his colleague had assumed after what was bound to have been a rather brutal meeting with the sidewalk four ...