Empty Clichés_Opposite of Primrose_A Letter To My Family_Chocolate kisses: a poetry-verse love story
Catalog Guide:
Empty Clichés
January 1st, the dawning of a new year, the time for resolutions we nevewww.onedoor.ccr keep…all the clichés felt empty. I should have spent New Year’s Eve out with my partner and his friends, taking shots of whiskey and shooting confetti cannons when the ball dropped. Instead, because of the events of the year, I sat at home, curled up in my recliner, tucked under a soft blanket, watching reruns of nineties sitcoms.I blamed fear of coronavirus, of course, because it was a convenient and practical excuse. Who could blame me for not wanting to be surrounded by crowds of disease-ridden strangers? The truth, t...
Opposite of Primrose
Opposite of Primrose Caspian was never afraid of losing himself. He would welcome it even, to spend a day where he wasn’t him, a day where he was anyone else. Or maybe a day where he wasn’t even anyone, a fresh slab of clay for life to sculpt.And when he looked to the future, he wanted to see something. Anything instead of nothing. There was no five year projection plan for him, just a hope that suffocated his lungs at times. It was just “maybe one day”s for him and packets of ketchup he would pop as a substitute for the people he would hurt. And when there were no packets, it was just a rage ...
A Letter To My Family
In a previous life Jessica had a family. I don't mean a pre-historic life, or incarnate as Queen Alexandra, et al. I mean five years ago. To Jessica, however, five seemed more like ten or even twenty years. It, and they, felt as if they were that distant within her innermost being. How, Jessica wondered, could I completely wipe out a huge part of myself, as if only having existed in my imagination? Was I a physician in a previous life skilled at cutting off body parts? Evidently, Jessica realized, forgetting was pretty easy to do, and forgetting, without needing a silly physician's skills, see...
Chocolate kisses: a poetry-verse love story
Ellen twirls down the stairs, carrying a tray of crossants, her cropped, silky blond hair and diamond-blue eyes shining. She's like the Ellen DeGenres of baking. She has the same first name after all. Same eyes. But her hair is softer and prettier, and she is younger. She is dressed in a black and white dress, with a wide skirt, button-up top like an anime character. Me, a character.Her eyes sparkle as she walks into her bakery, from her apartment upstairs. Her employees Ryan and Liza, are standing there, behind the counter, their reflections shining on the surface of the granite count...