Please Don't Cry_Latitude Sixty-Nine_The Islands_Bread and Butter for the Journey
Catalog Guide:
Please Don't Cry
Please Don’t Cry“We’re running out of time,” she tells him. He knew the look. He had seen it a thousand times. When she gets this way, he knew to just remain calm. Anything he said that was not a confirmation of her assessment would lead to crying. He couldn’t tolerate her crying. He loved her more than words could ever describe, but her crying was…it was just ugly. Glistening snot accompanied by the vexatious gulping of air like a beached whale choking on a truckload of sand, and then the end…the end was the worse. Hiccups always followed the sobbing. Once, she had hiccupped for hours, late i...
Latitude Sixty-Nine
On March 5, 2022, a research expedition’s remote submersible spotted the wreck of HMS Endurance, sitting intact ten thousand feet below the surface of the Weddell Sea. The ship has rested there since November 21, 1915, when, after months of being trapped in pack ice, she crumpled from the pressure and sank. The history of the ship and the failed attempt of Sir Ernest Shackleton and his crew to make the first land crossing of the Antarctic continent are well known, as all twenty-eight members of the expedition overcame improbable odds and survived to tell the tale.But did they tell the whole st...
The Islands
Through the unique cadence and moan of the ancient cavern, the stuffed filtering of dust coated the silky breeze. This island is beautiful—stretched broadly like tender limbs in awakening, and the sea permeates its glittery, minty aroma. Niamh was sketching the ruins of Dún Mór when she first saw the old man. He wheeled his bicycle alongside the cliff edge before stopping, resting it against a rock and sauntering around the prowww.onedoor.ccmontory front, and admiring what little was left. He saluted her as she passed and she quickly turned to gaze at the sea. The last thing she ever wanted was company.Aft...
Bread and Butter for the Journey
Let’s take a little trip, On a rocket ship To the far side of the moon. You can start a brand new life, Free from all the care and strife. For the old planet is doomed. Begod, I wish I could get that damn jingle out of me head! If I hear it once more I swear to ye, I’ll eject me-self from the hatch, no suit nor nothin’. But that would defeat the purpose folks. Ye see, I’m not meant to be here at all. I sorta snuck onto the ship. Oh be sures, they’ll let us Dubliners build the feckin’ thing, but could we get a ticket? My blue balls we could! It is cold in here, mind you. They could well...