Café Dexter_Wading through a sea of white_Last Prince Standing_A Rusty Plaque
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Café Dexter
There is a place further up the street, but it is cold and wet, and I am tired. My choice of attire today has been found lacking. Mistakes have been made. My waterproof coat is hanging up by the door at home, having been usurped by the far warmer fleece-lined, cord bomber jacket with the fluffy collar. It has been snowing since the day before, so logic would dictate that it was the correct choice, but as the day had gone on, the flakes had become considerably wetter. As a result, my jacket and woolly gloves are soaked through, and even my feet are beginning to hurt. It’s strange how something...
Wading through a sea of white
Monday 21st February, 1981 Gilbert Hall, Islington, N1 9PQ, London, EnglandThe recently varnished mahogany oak doors were the only thing stopping me from rushing inside, breathless and buzzing with nervous, thrilled energy. But, for some reason, their looming presence seemed to still my frost kissed limbs on the threshold. My hot breath misted in front of me, in little puffs and clouds, bringing to mind a regretless chain smoker. Soft murmurings drifted through the doors of the undoubtedly warm house. I could already feel my stiff fingers soaking up all that glorious heat. But for a second...
Last Prince Standing
Dear Family,I am writing this now because I don't know how much time I have left.If you're reading this, I am probably dead right now and you have finally found my will.I want you all to know that I love, every single one of you dearly, but that love has it's limits when it comes to power. So this will is specifically made to give whoever is worthy, the position of king.Now to my dear husband, you have been king since the stone ages, so I will not allow you to be king anymore. Let those wrinkles rest my love. And take it from me, your old values and beliefs don't work as well as they used to, ...
A Rusty Plaque
In memory of Phillip Robertson. Soldier, explorer, friend.Phillip Robertson didn’t know how long he had spent standing within twww.onedoor.cche graveyard of his hometown, staring at the rusted plaque at the foot of an oak tree. The sun had risen from its slumber, traveled past the sky, and was now settling against the hills to rest before it made the journey all over again. The sun’s journey was constant, never straying from the path destiny had decided.The journey was almost like time in a way.When the government had first created the TV-37, or Time Vortex as he and the boys in the training department...