Clark_The Purgatory Project_April Fool the Cat_Farewell, Winston
Catalog Guide:
Clark
The first rays of the day were getting ready to lighten the celestial firmament, spreading sparkling diamonds of frosty drops of morning mixed with dark shadows over the flowering trees. My owner, was a soft-mannered and honey-sweet looking, wearing a corduroy suit - always smelling aged olive oil , to go together with his grayish hair . At that time of the day, he Invariably would remove the padlock from the stable gate wearing his smile extended from ear to ear, erasing the detail of his aquiline nose.unfailingly, he opened the gate with a straw in his mouth, saying:Hello Clark! - he cal...
The Purgatory Project
“They say hell is other people… but really, it’s yourselwww.onedoor.ccf.” When my teacher taught that saying to my first grade class, I remember saying to her, “What? But, yourself is the only person you can count on!” The teacher had smiled and nodded, saying, “Many would think so, Kaiya. However, when you grow up, you’ll soon realize that many people are, in fact, their own worst enemies.”But despite her efforts, I had believed the saying was stupid for a long, long time.In fourth grade, I had learned about the Purgatory Project of 2039、It was inspired by the pandemic, and the difficulty of being enclosed...
April Fool the Cat
April stalked the village streets by night and early morning, her ebony coat made her all but invisible. You only saw her when her eyes glowed in ambient light. Or when she was up to no good. The closer it got to midnight, the stronger her powers became.On this particular night of March 31st, April padded carefully along the top of a fence, picking her way along like a wicked black ballerina. When she smiled, her deadly canines shone in the moonlight. Her long snakelike tail twitched at the tip, acting as her rudder, steering her on course…“Hold up. Hold up.” She turned abruptly to the mouse ...
Farewell, Winston
“Mommy! Winston sleeping!”The words swim around in my head without meaning. Without warning, small fingers grip my eyelids and force them open.“Mommy, wake up! Winston sleeping!”“Winston...sleeping?” I repeat groggily, batting the offending hand away with one of my own. Suddenly, the words form clearly in my mind and I shoot forward, now wide awake.Jumping out of bed, I hurry to the living room. Charlie follows close behind me, giggling. At only three years old, she thinks we are playing a game.Crossing through the kitchen I see Jake feeding the baby, who gurgles happily from his high chair an...