The Death of Me_Carnevil_Anonymous Fillers_Double-O-Dead
Catalog Guide:
The Death of Me
It’s a dark, dreary day in the middle of October. The ground is soaked from the rain that occurred earlier in the morning, and the smell of wet dog greets my nose. I decided to go for a walk since my parents are yet again fighting, and talking about porcing yet again. In the distance someone is walking, and I cannot make out if they are behind or in front of me. ***The footsteps that the person are taking seem to grow closer with every step they take. Birds fly as the steps grow towards me. Fear runs through my veins, and I dash away as fast as possible. My lungs grow weak, and I coll...
Carnevil
When I found myself sitting on a chartreuse carousel elephant and holding a funnel cake, I knew something was wrong. Besieged with raucous tinny music and blinded by flickering neon, my motion-sickness worsened by the smell of fried fat, I looked around for my family. They were the ones who had wanted to come to the carnival. Funnel cake fumes rose as the elephant dropped with a sickening lurch. I thought of throwing the plate, but didn’t want to add to the congealing piles of garbage all around. When the carousel finally slowed, I looked around the crowd again. If I found my family, I would...
Anonymous Fillers
“Fuck you Corporate America!” John Smith said aloud, while walking back to his house in the suburbs. Everything had been going great until Corporate had decided to upgrade the department. What the hell is this! Was his exclamation and honest question in response to finding that moving monitors had replaced half of his coworkers, upon returning to work. His colleagues, Patrick, Jacquelin, Derek, and Samantha were gone. Now all that remained of his social circle from work was Matthew, and Matthew had never really been a big part of the group anyways. After having rubbed his eyes to make sure he...
Double-O-Dead
Another shot rang out across the cobblestone courtyard and another bullet shattered the ancient stucco near the agent’s head. They were getting better, he thought, one of these times, they might actually hit me. He waited for a count of twenty and another shot followed, this one lower than the last, ricocheting off the stones at his feet as well. Better but still predictable. With twenty seconds to spare before the next assault, Agent Lazarus leaped out from his cover and trained his Glocks on the top of the distant clothier where the barking report of his assailant’s firearm had given away i...