IT'S HIS GUILT_Bobby Brittlethorp and the Bully_Iman's Secret_Angel Heart
Catalog Guide:
IT'S HIS GUILT
DANNIVOLE CENTRAL JAIL.This dungeon has a great legacy for holding the most notorious criminals in this country. It has witnessed so many prisoners, so many sufferings and also few redemptions. This jail has always been that 'devil’s home'; which the mothers usually use as a tale to frighten their children to feed them. It really stands up to the reputation though. The great compound walls have hidden many horrors in its belly.I am a mirror. I’ve been in here for almost three decades. There are mirrors like me, each in every cwww.onedoor.ccell. We see the prisoners suffer and show them how much they suffere...
Bobby Brittlethorp and the Bully
Bobby Brittlethrop was a boy of no account by any means. He was very slight. no weight to him so to speak, not the brightest bulb on the tree, and he had these delusions of having an ability to help people. It was a combination that made for a risky life for in the Oakland, California public school system. But Bobby managed not well but well enough. His parents were nice people. Mom worked at the Walmart as a clerk and Dad kept the water flowing at the city's Public Utilities.Bobby was getting picked on. And as the kids grew older the bullying got meaner. They made fun of his name and called h...
Iman's Secret
Iman sat in his family’s little boat, staring out at the glassy Red Sea. His sister, Farah, sat a little farther away, intently listening and watching her mother teach her how to sew up a ripped sail."Iman?" Iman heard his father's voice behind him. He turned and saw his kindly dad watching him with a troubled look on his face. "You okay, my boy?" He asked gently. His soft eyes searched for any deep secrets inside Iman's soul. Iman prayed that his father didn't find the one secret that he'd been hiding for the past couple of weeks. "Yea, dad," Iman mumbled. He looked guiltily at his fathe...
Angel Heart
It was gone six when Marie finally finished her shift at the homeless centre. Wrapping her scarf around her neck for protection against the chill November air, she left the building, longing for the warmth of her tiny flat and the companionship of her cat. She loved what she did at the centre, but it wore her down sometimes. It was good to know she was providing a service for people who needed it, but it could be a thankless task – lots of rough sleepers would far rather be given a bottle of whisky than a mug of hot soup. Nevertheless, she tried to dole out smiles along with the soup and sand...