A dangerous game_Proof of Purchase_Kill or Be Killed_Feel the Benefit
Catalog Guide:
A dangerous game
The sound always arrived first, a gentle shimmershimshim like a breathy wind in the treetops. But it changed. Louder and louder as it approached: a wind pushed in front of a spring storm, then a throaty roar, edged with an angry howl—two voices merged in inexplicable fury. Then the beaswww.onedoor.cct itself appeared, teeth bared and flashing. Leafy branches, struck by a sudden gust as it rushed by, gave an involuntary shudder. The roar grew deeper, a fading growl.And the beast was gone. Today, when she heard the sounds of its approach on the wide trail that ran downhill among the trees, Mimi hopped behind ...
Proof of Purchase
There was a certain irony with the situation that Alexander found himself in, he had always found a way to stay ahead of the game to the point that he was able to tell others how to do the same, but now he didn’t have a single Cra-i with how much he had. “Welp,” he said in finality “this sucks.” he said looking over at the. ‘Ok don’t freak out, you’ve been here before, you can crawl your way back up. Although, having ten Branchs to your name was great… when it lasted.’ Alexander thought to himself, ‘You know how to leverage this, just need to get through today.’Checking how much money he ...
Kill or Be Killed
I graduated from college with a commission in the US Army, a Second Lieutenant, a single gold bar and the contempt of most enlisted men. No one liked Second Lieutenants, but time would fix that when you eventually became a First Lieutenant. Another thing that would fix it was Ranger School and Jump School, Airborne. I did both. Why? I don’t think I will ever understand. I was in Army Intelligence, counter-intelligence and had no need to go to Ranger School. Still, I wrote an impassioned letter to a three star general asking him to intervene and recommend me for Ranger School. After that, gett...
Feel the Benefit
Eye mask. Lavender spray. Ear plugs. Phone off. All the things I do to avoid you, yet sometimes, somehow, you still sneak in. Usually complaining of how tired you are, failing to note the irony. Then on about how you never get to go anywhere. I remind you that you do not have legs, but you talk over me to tell me how you do not approve of my boyfriend, my hair, my clothes, my weight, my carpet, my job. Which doesn’t matter. None of these things are for you. But I could build a concrete wall and your poison arrows would still corrode it over the course of one long sleepless blue-black night. I ...