Shade of purple_When Time is a Girl_Folly of a Flower_Unlocked
Catalog Guide:
Shade of purple
Trigger warning: violence and domestic abuseShe pulled up her purple hoodie and revealed the most sensational yet terrifying eyes. Once she saw me looking at her as if I'm studying her she shy-ed away and began to put her hoodie back on.“No don’t, it’s just I have never seen someone with those eyes before.”She looked up and gave me a snarky reply“Those eyes? Is that supposed to make me feel better?”I examined her body; of the bits I could see she looked rather chubby. Her face was a full face, but the muscles around her face were rather taut. The idea of chubbiness arose to me when I looked to...
When Time is a Girl
Time is a girl. Did you know that? She’s a young girl but not in the way you’re probably thinking. For one to be considered old, time needs to have passed. Of course, to say she is young is to say only a little time has passed which doesn’t fit her either. Needless to say, I’m still figuring her out and I’ve spent a lot of time with her. I say she is young because of how she behaves and how I found myself behaving with her. She lacks the seriousness one might imagine Time Incarnate having. I certainly held imaginings of Time being the right hand of God himself; a stern servant with www.onedoor.cconly ...
Folly of a Flower
An eerie melody stole the winds freedom, forcing it to send the fluttering orange blossoms across the sky as an ocean wave. The spinning white petals soared upward, mimicking the song of the little girl sprawled in the grass. She was humming a made up tune, her emerald eyes squeezed shut in concentration. A flower landed on her small cherry nose as she sang a low note, a flurry of giggles vibrating her tiny body. She opened one eye, peering at the traitorous blossom relaxing on her face. A chubby hand clasped it ever so gently and brought it to her lips. She blew, the flower soaring back up to...
Unlocked
I must have stared at the door to the doctor’s office for a good five minutes. It was made of wood, with the number 308 stenciled in black letters. Century Schoolbook font, I think. I’m a Times New Roman girl myself. Call me a traditionalist. I also noticed that the brass doorknob could use a good polishing. How many hands had to turn the knob to wear it down like that? Amazing where your mind wanders when you’re trying to avoid something unpleasant. Going through that door could change my life for the worse, and I didn’t know if I could handle it. I heard footsteps coming down the hall and pa...