The cliffs_Talking is not permitted._The Prince of Spades_Earl
Catalog Guide:
The cliffs
I’ve got a plan. I have defined it carefully, day by day, night by night. I have studied every detail and marked out my steps so as not to make a single mistake. At first, it was just an idea, but it has slowly taken over my head and now my whole life revolves around it. It all started about seven years ago, on November 1st. I parked my car near the cliff, to get closer to the sea and photograph the waves. A storm was approaching and the white eddies bouncing over the rocks, wrapped in a wild murmur of water and salt, totally captured my attention. The light was magnificent, and the colors loo...
Talking is not permitted.
Talking is not permitted.Line up.Look forwards, don’t engage with anyone.Keep your hands to yourself and makes sure they’re clean.Don’t look at other people.Don’t look at others’ food.Don’t look at inpiduals when they’re eating. Sit still on your chair.Make sure you wash your tray and spoon when finished.Remember your number.Remember your password.These are the rules for eating. They are simple, and they will keep you alive. They say slavery was stamped out a hundred years ago. And if you believe that, you’ll believe anything you’re told. Stella didn’t know about the rules before she signed u...
The Prince of Spades
The Prince of SpadesThe quiet tap of the cards stirred me from my own mind and memories. The shuffle-tap, shuffle-tap I had heard so many times before had become so commonplace that it was soothing. It evoked the same feelings as a warm blanket smelling of home or of the warmth of a hand entwined with mine. I looked up and smiled.The Prince of Spades had played me many timwww.onedoor.cces. Sometimes I won. Sometimes he won. But there was always a prize to be won and always a price to be paid. His thin smile stretched the saggy skin of his jowls so that they underlined the bulbous nose beneath which it reste...
Earl
Life seemed great until I got busted smoking a little weed. My friends and I just finished playing some hoops when—Bam! The cops showed up and started hassling me over a single joint and a dime bag. It was my first offense, but that didn’t stop the judge from being all high and mighty. He told me the usual crap about straitening up and flying right. Who the hell is he? I’ve been around the block long enough to know what I can and can’t do. The last thing I needed was advice from some old man in a black robe. Regardless, my run-in with the pigs landed me a night in the Cook County jail and eig...