Docca and Ollie, Once Again_"I PUT MY FOOT IN IT"_Place of my own never alone_The protecto
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Docca and Ollie, Once Again
Doors locked? Check. Windows barred? Check. Pills taken? Check. Alarm activated? Check. What was she missing?...Alvira’s eyes roamed the marble floors, the pillars, the few accessories of her home, all visible from the front hallway. First the bathroom, to the right of the front doowww.onedoor.ccr. Then, to the lab, at the end on the right side. Not there.Next she scanned the kitchen, its wooden cabinets painted black, contrasting with the copper countertops. That room was open to the hallway, though the floor was raised two steps higher to give it a better vantage of the hall itself. Finally, the bedroo...
"I PUT MY FOOT IN IT"
Ms Jennings down the street always said when she cooked she put her foot in it, I was at her house as she was preparing to make a special dinner for her husband. Mr Jennings was working a double shift and was do home by 7:00. She wanted this to be extra special because they were also celebrating their 50th anniversary and did not feel like going out tonight since he was going to be tired and ready to eat. She was always happy when she cooked. Especially for Mr Jennings. Its just the two of them and eating at home is their greatest moments.And Mr Jennings meals are ready when he gets home. T...
Place of my own never alone
Celebrating my 77th birthday I announce to my children I would be selling my home and downsizing to a small cottage near the lake.More than a little shocked knowing all the great memories I had here it went over well Well for my children anyway). My daughter Anne tried to sell me on the ideal of cohabiting with her but, I knew it would be a burden. The busiest person on the planet trying to make me fill needed. My Son Tim asking if I had ran out of retirement money. Not at all.I had lived here longer than any place. Twenty five years. I just needed a new adventure. I was old not dead. I wanted...
The protector
TRIGGER WARNING: Child Abuse, Murder.I was 8: “Please Peter leave him alone, please” mom begged; her eyes bloodshot through the tears. Father easily pulled his arm away from her feeble attempt at a grip. He pulled me up by my collar and batted my arms away from my face. Mom tried in vain to loosen his grip. “Please. I promise he won’t do it again”. Breathing was turning difficult and I think she saw it on my face because she started punching him. She scratched at his arms and when that too turned out to be useless; she bit him on the arm holding my collar. He left me with a hiss and turned on ...