A Place in the Woods_Just Outside the Door_Lets Play Hookie!!_THE FACE IN THE MIRROR
Catalog Guide:
A Place in the Woods
The flames, bright orange from the sodium in the wood, danced and flickered in the field stone fireplace and told Jack Darcy that he was in the right place at the right time, that his decision was as sound as the bed rock beneath the cabin.He sat there in the rocker, in front of the fire, in a seat that sagged about six inches from level, and mused about fire's immutable connection to human evolution, and smiled broadly about his circumstance. Surrounded by hemlock logs that he had cut two dozen Springs before, logs he had shaved, shaped, assembled and chinked one on top of another, fortified ...
Just Outside the Door
It was around nine in the morning and I had taken up my usual post by the window, staring out at the little white flakes that fell gingerly from a bleak gray sky, frosting the grass in our backyard, covering everything around in a crisp layer of white. I exhaled slowly and let my breath obscure the glass in front of me. It was a very typical morning in the Fitzpatrick household. Mom was sitting roughly on the edge of her seat at the kitchen counter, smacking her lips as she sipped from a steaming cup of warm liquid. Dad sat across from her, his face buried behind the morning paper, studying c...
Lets Play Hookie!!
Amelia stumbled out of bed as she went towards the main door, where the incessantly ringing doorbell was reckoning to her. She opened the door and yawned as her friend Bianca stuffed a big object in her hand. “Ames, Sweetie am off to Mike’s for a few days can you please handle this?” Before Amelia realised what was happening Bianca was out the dowww.onedoor.ccor and into her car revving away, leaving a trail of smoke behind. Amelia kicked the door shut juggling the huge package in her hand. It was covered with cloth so she couldn’t tell what Bianca wanted her to handle. She gingerly placed it on the dining...
THE FACE IN THE MIRROR
THE FACE IN THE MIRROR Undoubtedly it had been a big, a good stroke of luck, indeed a colossal stroke of luck, a godsend, as everyone had said him, both friends, relatives and acquaintances, and even those who did not know him, but who had known what (it) had rained on him. Since he, George P., thirty years old, freelance journalist, with modest income, who led a barely dignified life, had suddenly, and at all unexpectedly found himself heir of a truly colossal fortune, such colossal it was that he was rather scared than enthusiastic when he thought about it. An aunt of his grandmother, wh...