Less Time_What if?_Insane_Au Revoir
Catalog Guide:
Less Time
“Everyone down on the ground. Don’t move and nobody gets hurt”, the male voice yelled as he waved a short barrel shotgun around the room. A stern and forceful female voice silenced the room, “Listen up, all we want is the money and we will be out the door and you can go right back to your normal little lives.” Using her Glock, she motioned toward the clerks behind the counter, “I need all of you to put the money in bags and make it quick. I know someone here has already pushed the button and we have only a few minutes. Don’t make me shoot someone if I don’t need to.” Out the corner of her eye,...
What if?
Short story. What if everyone told the truth. From political figures to the average person walking down the street?And what if by telling the truth people started to see life in a different prospective, and life as we know it improved, attitudes became more positive less negative, racism a thing of the past, violence non existent, abuse as if it never existed. What if? Then no one would be considered second class citizens, every man would be created equal, white, black, brown, yellow, colors associated with a child's coloring book or paint set. Applications would assess a person worth by their...
Insane
"...there's nothing you can do," Was the last thing she said before plunging a knife inside me. And that's where she was wrong. It all had started with a break-in in Clark's bakery. The only thing stolen? A top-secret ingredient they refused to talk about. As you can imagine, you can't really find anything without knowing what it is or at least what it looks like. We tried questioning the staff, yet the only thing we got out was that the ingredient was stored in a little black box in the shop's safe. Nothing about what it actually was or why they were www.onedoor.ccso desperate to find it. Since they said ...
Au Revoir
The moment her fingers wrapped around the neck of a guitar instead of around the spine of a book, I knew that the family tradition would die with me. From the moment my twelve year old daughter plucked at those strings for the first time, she was a goner and everybody knew it. Everybody acknowledged it. They even praised her for it. But, according to the whispered rumours flying around the shelves I stocked on a daily basis, I was villain in every story that featured my daughter.I don’t understand why she won’t support Danica’s music.All Larissa ever cared about since little Dani was born is...