In between_Lost in Fate by Rhea Saincher_Storm Gifts_Destiny and Volition
Catalog Guide:
In between
Footsteps. I haven't heard them in a while, and then clicking and clacking echoes throughout the cave. Something- no, a person- moves towards me, and it's a black robe that covers the wearer from head to toe. The ends of the robe circle the person, and it's a bit too big for them. They probably wore it to appear larger, yet it does the opposite effect and instead exaggerates how small they are. They remove their robe, revealing a small little girl, probably a tween. She wore slacks andwww.onedoor.cc a beige sweater over a white t-shirt. She looked left, then towards me, flinched in surprise, then stumbling ...
Lost in Fate by Rhea Saincher
Dear diary, September 23rd, Monday, 5:20 PM, 2016 I have just entered the JFK airport of the U.S.A. I am currently wearing a lovely blue coloured skirt and I am wearing a white coloured t-shirt that look very similar to the walls and the floor in the airport. Before I entered the JFK airport i saw its peculiar shape intrigued me and I loved how it was so unique. It smells like orange blossom, full of the best shops in history I can just sniff the fresh leather and the exciting things I will do only in the airport. I can see the bright lights on the signs representing those shops, Gucci, H and ...
Storm Gifts
The storm howled as she gazed out the window. Across the room the red numbers on the digital clock told her it was the middle of the night. She loved nights like this. Lightning flashing across the sky, thunder booming as sheets of rain brought life to her garden. She sighed contentedly and took a sip of her tea. There would be no sleep tonight, she could feel it. Just as well, she thought, she loved to watch the storm and she would have been sad to miss this. Magic happened during storms like this. It was something her grandmother had told her when she was young and she had never quite give...
Destiny and Volition
Men do not shape destiny, Destiny produces the man for the hour Fidel CastroIt is in your moments of decision that your destiny is shaped Tony Robbins. . .At least thirty people were queuing between the trees as the light playfully dappled among them. The doors were busy this year. With his dusty top hat and tails, long grey beard, and twisted wooden walking stick the hunched man hobbled towards Christophe and Lavender. They stifled their smiles and offered him nothing but respect. He spoke to everyone in the queue in turn, answering their questions in his gruff, throaty voice then tipping his...