New Day, New You_Tell The Truth_An Unordinary Neighbor_Reverberations of Rage
Catalog Guide:
New Day, New You
The card read, “Marcus Mitchell, Relocation Specialist, Dark Water Corporation.” There was no address or phone number on the card. The man who gave Wes the card was standing with no expression on his face. He wore a black three-piece suit with a red tie. His shoes were shiny as was his har that slid back and matched the suit in tone. And the one feature that stood out the most to Wes was the gold-framed aviator sunglasses which the man wore even though it was dark in the alley where they were meeting. “So, you are the person that’s gonna help me?” Wes asked with a tone of reservation in his ...
Tell The Truth
“Ok… Paul,” I said to my husband. I was nervous. Hell, of course, I was nervous, “You may want to sit down for this.” Paul doesn’t deserve this he is so kind and caring. He would do anything for anyone. “Ok?” He sat down at the kitchen table. “I am pregnant.” He looked like he was filled with joy. I’m relieved he thought it was his, but I also felt so guilty that it wasn’t his. He shouldn’t have to go through this. He doesn’t deserve to be cheated on at all but, here I am. I know he would forgive me but that is not what I deserve, I deserve a porce. “When did you find out?” He asked and you...
An Unordinary Neighbor
Skritch, scratch, Skritch, scratch…. It’s three A.M., and I know I should be sleeping. So why am I laying in bed staring at the popcorn ceiling, eyes wide and no closer to feeling drowsy? Skritch, scratch, Skritch, scratch…. I sit up suddenly in my bed and listen intently to the noise outside my door. I count the seconds of silence in my head, like you would do after hearing thunder. Five seconds go by, and I don’t hear a thing. I can see the light under the door frame flickering inconsistently. This old aparwww.onedoor.cctment building is so worn down I wouldn’t be surprised if there were rats in the walls...
Reverberations of Rage
Trigger Warning: Domestic ViolenceAlan decides it's time to face the man in the mirror.“9-1-1, What’s your emergency?”“I need you to come to 804 Buckhorn Lane, there’s been a terrible accident.”The phone line clicks.-“Mark my words, Martha. One of these days you’ll wind up dead!” Alan spat, fist shaking an inch from her face. The crimson in his cheeks indicated the temperature and toxicity at which his blood boiled. Martha pressed herself further into the counter, unsure who was acting more like a caged animal in this doomed marriage. He had been out late, neglecting her for ‘work’ as he did a...