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Snakes in the garden_Flourish_First Sight_Off the beaten track

Zachary LloydJess AAmelia Ward Stories 04-07

Catalog Guide:
  • Snakes in the garden
  • Flourish
  • First Sight
  • Off the beaten track
  • Snakes in the garden

    Holding in the tears is hard when all you did was tell the truth. Snakes in the garden helps with the rodents, so sometimes it’s easier to tend to the garden if you don’t kill the garden snakes. This was something my mother always used to tell me daily. Showing up at the club feels weird sometimes with all the people who know me shaking hands, dapping people up, and more just to show me respect for the amount of time I have put in here. Sometimes it can be exhausting having to be this way , I hear all the conversations in my position and I finally understood what my mother meant by that saying...bh8one door

    Flourish

    NOTE: The following short story contains possible sensitive topics that may cause negative emotional responses: an eating disorder, fat shaming, bullying, and loss. “Spring cleaning time,” sang Ashlyn’s mother, Loren. To Ashlyn, it was a time for dust and dirt. A time for her mother’s—probably fake—flowers. They lay scattered on the kitchen island with cut stems, faded colours, and some petals shed. Among them—her mother so fervently informed her—were Delphiniums for goodwill, and Dahlias for warnings and change. Yeah, Ashlyn thought, for vases half-empty of clouded water. Ashlyn sat on the ed...bh8one door

    Firstwww.onedoor.cc Sight

    I walked down the street as I dreaded having to go to school. My phone rang, telling me about the steps that lay ahead. I knew this route by heart but it was always nice to have my phone tell me how far steps, crosswalks, etc. were and if there were any hazards that weren’t normally there. “There is a set of five stairs approximately five feet in front of you,” my phone chimed in its robotic voice.  I walked around five feet and felt for the edge of the stairs with my foot. As soon as I found it and located the handrail with my hand, I started walking up the stairs. As soon as I reached the f...bh8one door

    Off the beaten track

    During my childhood, nothing was bigger than my Dad’s footsteps. Everything seemed to shrink compared to it. His feet, often clad in the same woolie-socks all year around (even during summer, encased inside his enormous sandals), were no match for the other Moms and Dads at the soccer-practice or at parent meetings. You could always see which pair of shoes stuck out. They looked like something the gargantuan cats Hogne and Tovner, known for carrying the Norse goddess Freya, had dragged in. And I mean, his feet were a considerable, European size 46, but in my mind it was bigger than lorry-wheel...bh8one door

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