The Eight Years_The world of screens_A Heartfelt Eulogy Before We Are All Ritually Sacrificed and Co
Catalog Guide:
The Eight Years
White smoke — not from my old ashtray — from my hot coffee with low caffeine and creamy taste. After I finished reading Matthew Kelly's "Rediscover Jesus", I took a quick shower and change my shabby clothes. Tight faded blue jeans, oversized black shirt, and brown espadrille sandals. "I haven't cut my nails, they grow so fast..." I whispered to myself and heaved out a calm sigh, "Nevermind, I'm gonna be late."I looked around my small living area to check if I forgot something, "I turned the lights off of my room as well as the fan. I got my phone and keys inside my bag... Yup, I think I got it...
The world of screens
A future too cold to exist, a past twww.onedoor.ccoo far away to be remember, is the year 2200 a, after corona virus everything change, with new technology people stop physic contact at all, everything is made by machine, first was the mask now is the room, nobody leave his room, nobody can't leave his room, no mom and child contact, no wife and husband contact nothing, we just live in our rooms, babies are made in vitro and they never get a single touch from another human, now even if our disease is gone, we forgot how to be human anymore, the fear of peoples become our disease, and robots are happy to kee...
A Heartfelt Eulogy Before We Are All Ritually Sacrificed and Consumed
Classmates, cultists, and tentacled monstrosities lend me your ears. Boy, that’s not the way I ever thought I’d start a speech. Now that I’ve said it, I’m beginning to wonder if those creatures even have ears. Does a squid have ears? So far, I’ve only seen a few enormous tentacles emerge from the crater lake sporting suckers the size of car tires.Ugh, I’m rambling. Nerves, you know? I’m better with time to rehearse in front of a mirror.I’d like to start by thanking the cultists for giving me a chance to say a few words.I’m sorry. Is it, though? I wouldn’t have thought--No, no, perfect...
Cosmetic Recovery
There was little tying the woman to Didier except his beautiful name and heated apartment. Didier, the man with the lovely continental name and warm home did not show love to the woman. In fact, he had a girlfriend, a cosmetician from another town. In all respects, the woman was an easy and available convenience to Didier. It was a fact that the woman accepted and sometimes even relished. It fed into her wounded side that sought recognition and physical touch almost at all costs. Over time that side grew larger and heavier, and the woman, feeling nameless but secretly powerful, carried on seei...