Golden Thread_Cammie and the Coronavirus_Chair Found on the Planet Vextar_A Little Wolfie Cub
Catalog Guide:
Golden Thread
Harry didn’t wait for his first art class to begin painting. He completed his first canvas before the instructor, Mr. Ambrose arrived. Several blanks leaned against the back of his chair. Mr. Ambrose described his expectations. He required but one complete canvas by semester’s end. But he would decide what ‘complete’ meant. “Paint what you like. Put your heart into it. Fill the canvas. This is Painting 101、 Not cartooning. Not sketching. Explore the limits of the canvas. Use it. Whether a flower, a portrait, or a landscape, create a new universe. Free yourself from the confines of the known. ...
Cammie and the Coronavirus
Jay came home early today! I wonder why though maybe the other humans aren’t letting Jay work today or something like that… But that means I’ll be able to play with him more yay yay yay! We could go to the park, go swimming in the lake, visit Jay’s Momma and-and even go treat shopping like on my birthday every year. Oh what fun this’ll be for me and Jay! But he might have to go to work tomorrow though then I’ll be stuck at home all alone and-and I’ll have to try and play with the cat and Patches is no fun at all.Jay stayed home today and was watching the
Chair Found on the Planet Vextar
Make no mistake about Bethelda, though she’s five years old. If anyone dares to misjudge or overlook creatures like her, God help them then.Go ahead. Look at her. The curling browwww.onedoor.ccn hair, the scrutinizing eyes. The make-believe ballet executed with authority. The rumba, punctuated here and there by her fierce roar. That night at dinner you could see her stiff lips when they told her to shut up. “I could kill,” she muttered under her five-year-old’s breath.She wanted to discuss the artfully seasoned string beans. It wasn’t case law, but Bethelda was wise enough to love her moments with string be...
A Little Wolfie Cub
“Once upon a time, there was a little wolf cub.” The deep grizzled voice cut through the dimly lit room and down into the fluffy mound of tussled blankets and sheets that wiggled and squirmed with a little wild girl. “It was a cub with the wildest hair, the wildest grin, and the wildest heart.” A little voice squeaked from between the layers, muffled and soft, “Just like me, granny?” The old weathered face creased with well earned wrinkles as it grinned into the night. “Oh my sweet wild one, this particular wolf cub was fearless and the bravest of the whole pack." A tuft of brownish blonde hai...