Plant A Tree_Atop of the hill_Tears Take Tolls_The Day is Almost Over
Catalog Guide:
Plant A Tree
‘Plant a tree!’ Jillian laughed, her streaky horselike mane of chestnut flying in the early spring breeze. All around her and her sister, Georgia, were luxurious pale green leaves falling softly like stardust, and birds mirroring their joyful cries as they cascaded into the unbelievably baby blue sky. Snippets of song flew on the friendly wind, and perfumed meadows filled with swaying flowers beckoned beyond the playground. Fertility was encompassing this wide green land: the lush, untouched hills and paddocks of grass, the glorious butterflies mating above the new blossoms, the thawing of the...
Atop of the hill
Hills and meadows, blue spring skies, cool, clean air. The hills swirl delicately up then down, leaving what looks like the aftermath of a dream time serpents zigzagging journey over the earth. A perfect green covers each hill. Long, breezy grass sways gently in whatever direction the wind blows. Rivers flow down the hills and into small lakes as clear as glass. The lakes glisten and shine like crystal, and single rays of sunlight bounce of their surfaces like perfect mirrors. Toward the west where the sun sets, blue mountains stare paternally over the meadows in the distance. A blue h...
Tears Take Tolls
TW: suicidal ideation, self harm A brighwww.onedoor.cct day. Cloudless, the sun shining shamelessly in the sky. The light breeze brushing against my bare lips. Nothing blocking it. But I feel sick. I want to throw up. I act like everything's okay, nothing's wrong, sipping my Fanta calmly through a paper straw. Because across from me, my best friend Logan sits on a white plastic chair, smiling. An innocent and sparkling smile, a naked one. Not covered by a breathless mask or anything. The atmosphere is tight. It's awkward because we haven't seen each other in a while, I guess. "Hey, it feels weird outside wi...
The Day is Almost Over
The sun is always setting these days. Dolores feels as if she is perched on a precipice in her rocking chair, the world below staggering in and out of view, all of it awash in a brilliant red. The date is lost to her, as is the time, and she grasps for any indication that the world is still turning.Hermione comes in at irregular intervals. The little girl has grown tall and slender and has shaved her hair off. Dolores longs to run her fingers over the fuzz that reminds her of Rick. How long has it been since she saw her husband? He hasn’t come to visit her since she moved here. She’ll have to ...