The Redundant Crusade_Tasha and her Mum_The White dot_The Artist
Catalog Guide:
The Redundant Crusade
After what felt exactly like one-thousand-four-hundred-and-eighty-five years, Arthur was finally beginning to suspect he wouldn’t be needed any more, and that they could all retire just like his men wanted. But just then, the old stone door covering the cave entrance slid open, and they saw a figure silhouetted by the glory of the daylight. Arthur leapt to his feet at once, his chained mail jingling. “Merlin, old chap! It’s about bloody time.” Then all his knights jumped to their feet too, and everyone drew their swords and cheered, “Huzzah!” The figure at the mouth of the cave stepped forward...
Tasha and her Mum
Tasha is Raised by a single mum in a lovely Cabin. She’s average height, very beautiful, and just turned 18、 Wake up and see beautiful trees as she opens the window and look up the sky sad, like she’d no reason living. Made the bed, clean the house, prepare breakfast, took a bath before she wakes up her mum awww.onedoor.ccnd walk her to the living room. She was a good girl, her mum was proud. Pick up her bag and hug her mum so tight as she gets off for school as if she doesn’t want to let go. This was her daily routine. Her Mum had been suffering from an illness over the years. She was an accountant, intell...
The White dot
The fresh autumn morning breeze swept across the flickering blades of grass and bent their spines to follow the rhythm of the natural air. The wind whispered in the hollows of the great trees of the forest as she rushed by, secrets of long forgotten times. She twirled in the empty air and grasped leaves in her fine grip and tossed them across the woodland floor. Acorns fell from the old oak as her shoulder brushed up against them, the nut tumbled down and rolled in concentric circles until halting as it ran out of energy, it lay there to rest. Out from the gaunt roots of the oak, tiny pine nut...
The Artist
The unbearable thing about living is not so much being but being oneself. God put billions of us into the world and gave us all, as a joke, our own life and morals. The universe never planned on me, or you, only some specimens based on the original model. Like a car, each made of the same essential central engineering. The only difference being the license plate. For a human, the license plate is their face, the accidental and unrepeatable accumulation and assortment of features which reflects neither character nor soul. My face is a particularly ratty one, with big yellowish teeth. My eyes ...