The likeness of Beth_The Hinterland_N/A_The Boy Next Door
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The likeness of Beth
The Mary Dunn Park was an oasis not far from the city center. The canopies of the old trees spread their dappled light over the undulating walkways and hidden grottos. It was to one of these grottos I had brought the soon-to-be newlyweds, Lily and Kara. What made this grotto special—especially at this time of year—were the five cherry trees, which right now, were in full, glorious pink and white blossom.I had the women stand under one of the cherry trees, and while they laughed and preened each other’s wedding gowns, I fibbed a little and told them I needed to take some light readings, and ex...
The Hinterland
David Albert King (middle name after his grandfather) had enjoyed a normal upbringing and been fairly sane until uwww.onedoor.ccnchaperoned forays into the Internet in his early teens revealed that the world was not as he’d known it. There were conspiracies at the highest level. Politicians and famous actors did despicable things. No-one could be trusted. Before it had been other foreign countries, but now it was the good old U.S. of A. that was the enemy. Not the people; the government. An apocalypse was coming and it was everyone for themselves. You couldn’t count on anyone or anything. David resolved tha...
N/A
The hot, large cup of coffee was just what she needed. It was really chilly in her makeshift office on this particularly sunny morning. Even though she didn't even like the flavor of it Myra added a shot of Vodka to make it more appealing. It had been a long and frustrating week. As more news poured in about a menacing pandemic and downturn in the economy her options were quickly drying up. Her company was so afraid of the current events, they decided to completely demolish an entire building and pision that housed her position of five years. For several days she mulled in her head why this wa...
The Boy Next Door
Teenage boys are like rough, unfinished works of art. They are paint on the canvas, nothing yet blended together with a brush, the final picture imagined but unknown. Clay on the wheel, unspun and uncreated, only glistening with possibility. They are everything their mothers saw in them when they were little boys and everything they’ll one day become, waiting to be born.But when you’re a teenage girl, you don’t know this.Adult Grace would study the past and say, there was more to Alexander Laurent than met her eye. There was more to him than just a handsome, exotic, French expat who moved next...