I and You Are We_In These Walls_Unexpected Music_Pouch Eggs
Catalog Guide:
I and You Are We
Buffalo gals won't you come out tonight Come out tonight, come out tonight Buffalo gals won't you come out tonight And dance by the light of the moon(Old minstrel song, perhaps)Pilar and Lavinia are in O Toural, a central yet free-flowing litttle plaza in Santiago de Compostela. They have been discussing the new film coming to Numax and how they ought to go because it's had great reviews."I hear the actors aren't professionals. They all come from the rural area where it was filmed. That creates an impact." Lavinia says, and knows she has to see the movie, the sooner the better. Filming with ...
In These Walls
Alice was born on a Tuesday, at 3:13 in the morning. Her mother, Mona, screamed and pushed and did all of the usual things, and Alice appeared outside of her body and into the bathtub three seconds after the minute hand clicked into place around the clock that hung in the next room over. Her father, Paul, would tell her the story that way. He had tried to be there in the bathroom for the birth of his first daughter, but had been sent away by Mona and her nurse after nearly cracking his skull on the toilet seat in a fainting spell. He sequestered himself, safely, to the office next door. Paul f...
Unexpected Music
The coldness of the room had nothing to do with the temperature. My father and I had avoided each other for several years. Ever since I found out he had another life for most of my childhood, I couldn’t look at him the same way. He missed many of my events because he “had to work,” and it was clear those really were just excuses for him to spend time with Justina. Her namewww.onedoor.cc was ironic because everything about her was not justified. She spent time with a man who was already married with three kids and a life that needed him. However, together they drove wedges into our family for years and had ...
Pouch Eggs
Someone is talking to me but all I can see is their teeth, so round and yellow they look like cooked corn. We are sitting on the parking lot outside of my apartment, the black tar heating under us and turning our insides to mush. The asphalt has been running a tiff with the sun for hours now, finally reaching a fever pitch as the sun lets loose its rays in a constant barrage against the stubborn pavement. It refuses to surrender its stance, though it has remained solely on the defense. All I can feel is its warmth heating the undersides of my outstretched legs. I am an egg incubating under its...