Of flowers and teenage confessions_Subtle Reflections_The Explosion_Grandma's Home
Catalog Guide:
Of flowers and teenage confessions
It was an absurd number. Back in his mind, he had always suspected that the amount of letters he had written during his presidency was more than the “average President” (whatever that was supposed to be) wrote, but looking at the note that his assistant upon his request to quench his curiosity had given him with the total amount of letters written by him, he nonetheless was stunned, shaking his head visibly in disbelief as he was sitting at his neatly organized desk, his favourte pen next to a letter in his dimly lit office.These letters that were counted, however, were not the usuawww.onedoor.ccl formal le...
Subtle Reflections
Another afternoon filled with rowdy, disrespectful kids. They do not care for books or matters of physical form, it is all about videos and music. I see their attention span decay with each generation. They say children are getting smarter because they know more and can comprehend more at earlier ages, but these same children are ignorant towards precious artifacts of our past. Swear words echo through the bookshelves reaching the ears of even younger more impressionable kids. The sounds of books falling to the carpet and slamming against the shelves reach my ears. I walk to the source and fin...
The Explosion
There are two people sitting on opposite sides of a table. One of them does not have red hair. The other does not have blue eyes. They're talking. Here, I'll turn the sound on. There we go. "You do know why you're in here, right?" The one without red hair asks, gently, politely. The one who does not have red hair stays quiet. There is nothing for them to say, not really. "I don't." The one without red hair is surprised that the one without blue eyes has admitted that they do not know something. The one without blue eyes keeps talking, and the one without red hair slips back into uncomfortable...
Grandma's Home
“The thing about this city, it’s always changing, growing, getting better. You know that old saying — out with the old, in with the new. Your grandma’s house is the old. And I’m the new.” I looked at the piece of shit in front of me. “You ripped her off. You stole her house.” “I did not. She had a lawyer—” “Your lawyer.” “Regardless, she agreed, and she signed the papers. Ergo, your Grandma sold me her house. All legal, and above board. And, I don’t think that I have to remind you, your grandma has to be out of her house in less than twenty-four hours. At which point, we will bulldoze this sh...