Meditation_The Charging Bear_Honesty_The Nativity Goat
Catalog Guide:
Meditation
[CW: eating disorders]Breathe in. Let your eyes close. Let your mind wander.Think back to a time when you were happy as a child. There must have been times when you were happy.Notice any tension in your forehead. Relax the muscles between your eyebrows.The time when you were three and your parents took you to a water park. You were scared of the tallest slides, but you felt safe in Daddy’s arms. You loved the bright pink flowers on your black swimsuit, the neon green ruffles around your waist. The river stone pathways bisecting the park, shaded by the arching branches of longleaf pines. Chlori...
The Charging Bear
“I’m telling you Barry, she was driving me crazy. I’ve never been so happy for it to be such a dry month.” The dark-haired, burly man in the thick coat leaned against the bar, his face flush from ale. He was among at least a dozen guests of the cozy inn, milling about merrily throughout the establishment.The innkeeper Barry chuckled in response. He had a deep, hearty laugh that rumbled from beneath his short, red beard. He leaned against the other side of the bar, sharing a drink with the other man. “I’m glad you’re happy about the lack of bucks and minerals this season, Bern. You’re the only...
Honesty
“We’ve got plenty of time! Isn’t that what you always say? And yet, here we are again, scrambling around, attempting to get out the door to get there just before the hors d’oeuvres are served! Why does it always have to be like this, Simon?”Emma couldn’t stop herself. Her invective had been stored like water behind a cracking dam for so long, waiting for the chink to widen to allow it to come surging through. She knew that it would only take one more misdemeanour on the part of Simon to propel her into a rant. And here it was. He was such a bumbling fool, she often wondered what on Earth she...
The Nativity Goat
www.onedoor.ccThe small black goat looked out into the immense auditorium and sighed. The cavernous space was devoid of an audience, each of the 600 upholstered maroon seats stared back at him with taunting flat faces. “Jaxon Jesse Simpson!” Screeched the teacher. Literally. She was a puffy, square-shaped screech owl with chestnut tufts for ears, and round golden eyes the size of saucers behind her wire framed glasses. Jaxon jumped and glowered at her. His scruffy eyebrows pulled into hoods over his eyes. The three kittens playing angels giggled. Mazie, the calf, rolled her eyes at Rollie, the donkey. He ...