Anti-prodigal journey_Chiarobruno_Cade and the Kid_Smoke Stacks
Catalog Guide:
Anti-prodigal journey
I’ve left home. I am now six thousand miles away from my parent’s grasp. My parents and their overbearing love which felt less like a cocoon and more like a blade that sharpenewww.onedoor.ccd a pencil to a point, chipping away at it to achieve a semblance of perfection.The anti-prodigal journey has been winding. First, the northern pilgrimage after living in the South for a few too many years. And what a Mecca at that: New York City, the pinnacle for those who want to get lost in a crowd. Not caring is the currency of the city. No one cared what I did and I stopped caring back. I built a whole new identity,...
Chiarobruno
TW: death The rules are simple:Every participant starts from the same line in New York City, New York and ends at the same location in San Francisco, California. Every participant must own their own motorcycle, have proper licensing and paperwork, and wear a helmet at all times. Participants must stick to competition-approved roads only. Participants may only ride their motorcycles during daylight hours.New York Sometime around 2am the day of the competition, Bruno breaks up with Chiara because he wants to win the competition. “It’s just a week, you won’t even notice. It’s better for both of u...
Cade and the Kid
“That’s just the way the sun sets out here, I reckon.”Sam Cade squinted into the western sky at its brilliant shades of orange, yellow, pink, and red. The sun was sizzling, melting into the jagged peaks of distant mountains.Sam squatted over a small fire. Out here in the badlands, a big fire might draw the unwanted attention of thieves, malefactors, or Indians. He had built the fire and boiled the beans for himself alone. That was before the redheaded youngster asked to join him. Couldn’t have been more than 16, traveling the wilds of west Texas by his skinny lonesome. Sam wanted to tell him ...
Smoke Stacks
Margie stood at her station, trying to work quickly but accurately. She checked the clock, “How is it only quarter of three?” she asked herself. Margie didn’t really care for the work, it was long, tiring, demanding, and everyone seemed miserable. But she felt a need to do it.All of her friends and family questioned why she worked. Yes, some women were joining the workforce, but everyone had their doubts. “You always seemed to love homemaking,” they said to Margie in confusion. Yes, she used to love it. And so did her mother, at least before, a time period that felt so foreign.The heat and st...