WEARING THE GUY IN THE PICTURE_The Silver Swing_A Nod_Wanderlust
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WEARING THE GUY IN THE PICTURE
By William SnesrudSomebody was softly kicking my feet as if trying to get my attention.“Hey old man, you need to get up and move before they come through and haul you off again.”As I slowly opened one eye at a time, I realized I was no longer in my comfy recliner but instead on a hard surface with the sun glaring down on me causing issues with focusing as I opened my eyes.Yep, something was vastly different than my tv room at home. I seemed to be laying on something rather hard and much uncomfortable as I looked up into the bright sunlight and found myself staring into a shadow of a man who wa...
The Silver Swing
Up two flights, down the hall, turn right, 6 doors down... 4, 5, 6、 This one has to be it.Ella opened the door and walked into the guest room. Well, what she was told was the guest room. It appeared to be completely empty and there were no lights. Figuring she must have made a mistake in the directions, Ella turned back to leave the room, but the doorway seemed to have disappeared. She couldn't see a thing, so she ran her hands along the walls, feeling for a doorknob.After many hours of fruitless searching, she sank down in defeat; her legs were pulled up to her chest, her head buried in her ...
A Nod
Tara stood, breathing heavily over her ‘friend’, trying to understand why she got so angry and lashed out, channeliwww.onedoor.ccng so much power in her magic to strike the woman crumbled on the ground. Paige was, Tara guessed, a friend, sort of, but absolutely a colleague and someone Tara thought she could trust. But over the last two months, Tara’s attitude towards Paige changed drastically, and the gnarled fingers emanating green crackling light, crunched eyebrows and a tight scowl were a direct result of that change, and a drastic manifestation of Tara’s unbalance with nature. She looked around the now ...
Wanderlust
I wasn't sure how I managed to get the only empty cabin on the train, let alone find it, especially when considering how abruptly crowded the train was with other folks who were diagnosed with a serious case of wanderlust. And yet, here I was, sitting comfortably on the cushiony seats made of a particular red fabric that smelled like the inside of a musty car. But I had been on the train long enough at this point that my nose was almost immune to it.I looked out the cabin window, my hazel eyes faintly reflecting off the glass. The English countryside was rather magnificent, with lush greenery ...