Where is my mom?_Lemon cake_Prize Money_I didn't do it..
Catalog Guide:
Where is my mom?
My mother had her own house, but she refused to live in it. She was convinced that I had installed eavesdropping devices in order to post her life on Instagram. A week after her seventieth birthday, she told a neighbor that she was going to Hollywood because she had friends living there who meant well with her and whom she could trust. . Mom loaded up her car and left. It did not take long, of course, before I had the police on the phone. They had found my mother sleeping on the street. The officers had taken her away and she had made a statement that she had given away her car because I had i...
Lemon cake
"That is the most astonishing thing I've ever heard." Miss Louise said indignantly. -"What?" Jean asked, "Have you never heard of flavoring cakes?" Jean set the aroma tubes down with an annoyed frown. Miss Louise had barged in for the umpteenth time in a fit of curiosity. Jean knew only too well what Miss Louise was fishing for. -"I'm not surprised you're confused, “the curious neighbor said in a patronizing tone. -"Oh?" Jean looked up for a moment, "And how is that?" -"That boy I've seen walking in and out of here with you for two weeks." Miss Louise continued. -"Vanilla." Jean said. Miss Lou...
Prize Money
“Lose. Lose, you big bitch.” Jackie Reardon whispered into a half-chewed Styrofoam cup of coffee. He couldn’t hear the sound of the back door being pried open over the announcers on the old black and white. “Ooohh! Is this it for the new rookie?!” Jackie watched as “the rookie” caught one a hook with his jaw. “Keep your guard up! What the hell are you doing?!” Jackie slapped the TV as he shouted. The rookie slipped a left jab, slipped the follow-up hook, and moved in past his opponent's guard. One uppercut, two body shots. One step forward. “Hit him! Hit him!” The rookie dropped his right as...
I didn't do it..
On her morning nursing rounds, June passed by Room 215, where Mrs. Edwina Smith, a middle-aged woman in the hospital for an inflamed pancreas, appeared to be slumbering, her enormous chest and abdomen rising and falling. Then the woman grunted and her eyes flickered open. Cleo, the new nurse, was drawing up insulin, her black nail polish shining in the florescent light. www.onedoor.ccBy some instinct, June noticed the loaded syringe… it was too much… she was sure.. but no, she didn’t want to confront the new nurse, with her choppy jet black hair and her large black tattoos of angry cartoons all over her le...