How Else Could It Be?_Top-Secret_Keep Your Cool_Choose Our Fate
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How Else Could It Be?
“Sorry.” He turned with the impact as he said it, to face the woman he’d bumped shoulders with. The woman started and began to turn back towards him, but the rush of the crowd pushed him to turn forward again and push across the street before he saw her face. A voice barked at him and he felt something catch his leg. He hopped wildly, and just managed to extricate his foot from the strap of rolling luggage. He turned to face the suit pulling the luggage passed him, but the face was already turning away with a wordless note of annoyance. He followed the back edge of the crowd to the far side ...
Top-Secret
My ears tingle as the bells above the door peal for the final time as my bakery shuts down for the day, the scent of my last customer perfuming the air. With a click of the deadbolt, dimming the lights, I survey the remainders in the display cabinets. A few Chelsea buns, some sugar cookies, two loaves of bread sit forlornly, soon shared with the local homeless shelter. With the donations boxed, the surfaces clean, I extinguish all light walking under the arch into my beloved kitchen. My eyes scan this space, where all of my equipment awaits my creativity tomorrow morning, early like the rooste...
Keep Your Cool
Log: October 9, 2018 Time is 1300.Set sail from Melbourne, Florida at 0800. Today is not as beautiful as yesterday. Sailing through moderate choppy waters. Slowly but surely there is a storm brewing as I am observing the clouded skies above me. I see a faint darkness pulsing its way in a fairly quick manner. My radio seems to be going on the blink, one time I can connect to a station and another time not. I have no idea of what the actual weather forecast is but I feel it in my gut, I’ll soon be in a major storm. The weather has changed from warm and mild to frosty chills. The wind velocity...
Choose Our Fate
As you evaluate the scene that lies before you in Leamington, Warwickshire, your thoughts drift back to those short but crucial ten seconds in 1918…TEN…your grimy fingers lock the ten-round short magazine into place on your Lee-Enfield Mark III. The Huns are not yet routed, but most of them are in retreat. As you once again lift your standard-issue rifle, your mind reflects on your early schooldays at St. Peter’s primary school. You imaginewww.onedoor.cc playing kick-the-can with your old gang at recess and wonder at how you’ve transformed into a decorated war hero. After so many years in the service of Eng...