Love Sick_Spanning the Dandelion Queen_The Copper Rose_A Centuries-Old Facade
Catalog Guide:
Love Sick
Nadine stood next to her new red 1984 Porsche 944 keeping an eye out for anyone who may be scoping her out. She thought the island people inhabiting the Low Country were thieves and crooks but wasn't scared since she had her gun in the glove box. The gun, unfortunately, could not protect her from the mosquitos, love bugs, and all other insects that were seemingly trying to devour her that summer. Nadine didn't want to leave too soon. Not without getting what she drove all the way out to the country for. Finally, Nadine spotted her. A middle-aged dark-skinned plump woman was approaching her dre...
Spanning the Dandelion Queen
“…loves me, loves me not, loves me, loves me…rats, I got two there. So that makes this one loves me, loves me not, loves me…” Ellie lay spread out on the grass, stealing glimpses of clouds between plucking pedals. The greenskeeper had been watching her for a while, waiting for her to move. He still needed to mow the grass where she lay. The woman looked very content, smiling at the weed she was holding. He hoped the sound of the mower would scare her away, but it didn’t. She had been laying there for at least two hours. While he had first seen her when he began mowing the golf course that morn...
The Copper Rose
*Nainika’s Note* An ode to the seasons, this one is. And in Yoda speak I will, until out of my brain, thoughts of the Mandalorian make their way. An autumn baby I am and exists, favoritism does. Jumbled, this story is, strange it is indeed, but enjoy, this story, enjoy. :)In the spring, the flowers push their way through the thawing soil, greeting the sun for the first time all winter. Springtime never waits for the perfect ice-free day yet pushes forth at the first chance for the warming light of day. Here wwww.onedoor.cce are with the wildflowers rising from the Earth, looking to the casual eye as weeds ...
A Centuries-Old Facade
Rhiannon“Mama, Mama!” the little girl says. Her dark curls pile over her chubby toddler cheeks, splaying over her mother’s chest. “Tell me Nana’s story, please?”“Rhi, I’ve told you that one so many times,” her mother replies wearily. “Don’t you want to hear something else?”“No, Mama,” the little girl insists, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. “Nana’s story is the coolest! Please, Mama!”“Oh, alright,” comes the reply. “Let’s take you to bed first, mm-kay?”“Okay!” Rhi’s enthusiastic response is choreographed with hops, twirls, and spins until she reaches her bedroom door. She climbs into be...