Core_Grasshopper Soup_The Phoenix of the Sea_The Way Things Are
Catalog Guide:
Core
The old woman wanders slowly through the orchard, pulling her shawl tightly across her shoulders.www.onedoor.cc The sound of crunching fills the air as she steps through the freshly fallen leaves of various colors––yellows and oranges and reds. The sun is warm on her back, to which she gives a perplexing smile––because the air is rather icy. Freezing, actually. She watches as her exhaling breaths form small puffs of condensation.She sighs in content. A perfect day.“It’s cold.”The voice flutters across the trees from her left. She turns to the voice, and breathes a sigh of relief upon seeing the familiar fac...
Grasshopper Soup
Grasshopper Soup“What is that you got in that bottle you’re holding so tight. It might just be killed if you don’t lessen up some.” Bellmore continued speaking as if he were reading the contents on a sardine tin. “Must be mighty important, you got such a death grip on her. Don’t intend to take it from you boy, if that’s what you got in your mind,” Bellmore stood on the rutted road, observing the boy clutching a half empty bottle of… Grasshopper was said to be a bit different. Some folks cared about such things, most didn’t. Grasshopper got his name so long ago t...
The Phoenix of the Sea
The first step onto dry land was bittersweet: the sweet relief of home and the bitter ache of parting.Years had passed but the swaying green of the bluffs hadn’t changed at all. She stumbled her way forward, her legs unused to the steadiness underfoot. Behind her the waves lapped at the shore and she could hear the familiar creak of wood on the wind but she would not turn. She would not crack. She paused at the base of the cliff, eyes caught by the sparkle of a rock pool. Her reflection swam in and out of focus as tiny crabs rippled the surface. How different she was now. Soft, doughy features...
The Way Things Are
“I hate these parties, they’re always so fake and exhausting.”I turn around slowly, carefully pocketing the flask I was using to enhance the flavorless punch sitting amidst an incessant sea of cakes, cookies, and assorted charcuterie meat and cheese boards. As I turn, my nostrils are ambushed with a cloyingly sweet and spicy scent so strong that I clear my throat in order to subdue the gag threatening to make an unwelcome appearance. “It’s Charlie, right? I’m Claire, I work in IT” Claire extends a surprisingly manicured hand, her nails painted a deep red color.“I prefer Charles,” I say while s...