Another Chance at Life_library after hours_Over Time_Ritual Burn
Catalog Guide:
Another Chance at Life
Sally Birmingham shouldn’t be driving; she knows. She drank three big glasses of red wine at dinner earlier and is still feeling a little tipsy. But when Charles mentioned his mother, Bridget, is coming over for brunch tomorrow, she realized she had completely forgotten the eggs for the quiche. Bridget is so Hoity toity that if Sally doesn’t have a quiche with Sunday brunch, she will never hear the end of it. So here she is, drinking and driving on a Saturday at almost midnight. She pulls into the local grocery store, making sure to park her Range Rover away from the other cars, out of habit....
library after hours
Amol woke up every morning to live a life for others, to run the errands and chores without feelings, like a robot. Life had made him act in ways he never imagined a year back. But the duty calls and mouths to feed snatched away Amol’s youth silently to everyone’s ignorance. The mundane routine had become his habit and the world had nearly forgotten that he was just a young boy with dreams shattered and responsibilities burdened. Seventeen year old, Amol worked in the shady, dingy two by two grocery store under Parimal Babu who was too old to sit in the store himself. Amol worked in his shop f...
Over Time
Over Time The formula for time is distance pided by speed. That does not corrwww.onedoor.ccelate to anything, I just wanted to be informative.6:30 amIts Sunday morning, the weather is already beautiful at 72 degrees. The birds are out to get a jump start on enjoying this day before anyone else. Julian wakes up at 6:45, he has a day off and plans to make the most of it since it has rained the past few weekends, he was off. Julian takes a shower, brushes teeth and washes face. Opens his closet to pick out something to wear.“Hmm, I’m thinking tank top and basketball shorts to start the day” Julian said to hims...
Ritual Burn
There are some places that just don’t look right when viewed in the light of morning. The main stretch of Angelwood had a washed out white light and sat at a tilt; all the storefronts seemed to lean drunkenly in at you when you looked straight down it. Morning made a deserted fairground out of the streets. It was almost embarrassing. I was doing what anyone with a a brain would do in Angelwood at ten in the morning. Anyone who wasn’t wisely still asleep under cover of absolute darkness. I was sitting in a bar, leaning against the corner of the wall, drinking coffee and wearing big square-shap...