The Corridors_Here's What I See_The Pearly Gates of Hell_Eternal Peace
Catalog Guide:
The Corridors
1I had been living and working full-time in The Corridors for twenty years and seven months when the dead body was discovered. It was a summer morning, the last Monday in July, the 6am sun already mutating the clouds into tattered cords of red like ripped-apart musculature and twisting them across the sky. The weekend had, by The Corridors’ standards, proved to be uneventful, with only three noise complaints on Saturday night which I ignored completely and our sole robotic resident Dwayne 2000-XL7-B5 hammering on my front door on Sunday afternoon to ask if I could let him into his unit after ...
Here's What I See
Two men are occupying a rather sterile looking room with white-painted walls and similarly-coloured chairs and what looks like a very powerful, piercing light on an articulated metal stand. One man is standing, wearing a light blue shirt, pants and socks. He has a look of intense curiosity on his face. At his feet is a webbed mask. The other man is sitting. He is dressed very differently, wearing an expensive suit and a costly silk tie to match. There was no intensity at all in his face. He looked tired, like he had only just awakened just a short time ago, and regretted the passing of sle...
The Pearly Gates of Hell
THE PEARLY GATES OF HELL ‘Please, don’t do it.’ Ms Ferngrove’s student had been a pain in the butt, dragging her heels, ever since they landed. ‘Please, don’t do it, Miss,’ the girl repeated. ‘It’s too dangerous. I don’t want to die … let’s go back, Miss.’ She had stopped and was pouting, arms crossed. 'Come along, dear. Watch me. It is NOT difficult.’ Ms Ferngrove took three long strides, hoped for the best, and leapt across the gap. ‘Your legs are longer than mine,’ the girl shouted defiantly. ‘Not doing it, so there.’ She turned to go back the way she had come. 'You stop right there, youn...
Eternal Peace
This story contains broaches the subject of both rape and child sex abuse from the point of view of the victim.Today, we shall take our magical spyglass and put it to our www.onedoor.cceye. The eye I speak of is our third one, our spiritual one, the one, that those of us who are in true tune to as creators, allowing us to see parts of a cosmic whole. There are writers out there, who don't use that eye. One can tell when one comes across one of those because they write using Neural-Linguistic Programming to manipulate the reader for a personal agenda. (I would hazard that in some way, shape, or form, they ar...