No Regrets_In Too Deep_Strolling Down Memory Lane_Miracle Man
Catalog Guide:
No Regrets
"We’re running out of time, captain!” I yelled above the explosive impact. Across from us, a rogue pirate spaceship approached, medium-sized and decorated in painted skulls, and horseshoes. It was lighting up our ship with streaks of red ammunition. Pelting us it seemed from all angles. “Ready the fire blasters, Ava,” said the captain. He was hanging onto the back of the bolted-in chair, bracing himself. His long body hunkering down and away from the force of battle but ultimately unable to absorb the full shock. One saucer-shaped hand clung to a bar fixed behind the chair, and the rest of ...
In Too Deep
“Please, don’t do it.”His fingers dig into the flesh of my lower abdomen and my vision blurs as his bright blue eyes get swallowed by dark corners. “You brought this onto yourself,” he tells me, voice trembling with bitter rage, his smile as sharp as the blade clenched between his teeth.He reached up and put his hand on my face, stroking the side of my left cheek with his thumb. Our eyes locked with a fierce intensity and I knew my fear wasn’t what was hindering my breath but the endless stretches of cobalt blue. His thumb brushes over my lower lip as he speaks, “I wonder if your lips are stil...
Strolling Down Memory Lane
I remember a day in late May, 1953, when several of my friends and I diwww.onedoor.ccsappeared into the bathroom after the last bell rang. I borrowed a tube of lipstick from one of them and we plastered bright red across our lips, some of the less experienced among us running a bit outside the lip-line — including me of course, looking a lot more like Cruella de Vil than Terry Lynn Huntingdon. Then, attempting to escape down the hall and make a b-line for the two-block walk into town to share our favored banana splits — slices of ripe bananas on the sides, one scoop of vanilla ice cream, one scoop of stra...
Miracle Man
“You are not fit to live among us!” My feet dangled above the marble floor as Father held me by the throat like a weed plucked from his favorite garden bed. There was no point in resisting his grip. He was Enki, god of creation; maker of man and keeper of the pine wisdom. Here in heaven, he held a sacred position among the gods that could not be challenged. “No! I…” He lifted me higher and the floor beneath me cracked, split, and fell away, revealing a dark pit with flecks of swirling starlight within. “Tammuz, my son, you are a spoiled child! For this, I banish you to the mortal world until...