Mrs. Goodwin's House_Auld Lang Syne_The Ding_Water-demon witness
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Mrs. Goodwin's House
She lived at the top of Toucan Hill in a mini mansion. The front entrance was designed with bushes in intricate swirls and a small fountain made of fish spouting curls of water. Quinn walked up the porch and rang the bell. Mrs. Goodwin answered in a long black silk robe which reached the floor. She hugged Quinn, purring Quinn’s name into her neck, sooo good to see you. The house was freezing. Mrs. Goodwin walked ahead of Quinn, her robe traipsing the floor, floating behiwww.onedoor.ccnd her. They passed the curved staircase adorned in a long red carpet, and the portrait of Blair and her dead sister, Margare...
Auld Lang Syne
Auld Lang SyneHave you ever had that feeling when you’ve met a random person that you could become the best of friends if circumstances were different? What causes people to not go through with pursuing a relationship in these cases? Is it due to shyness or inconvenience? Is it because it is better that the person remains a good memory of an illusion instead of unveiling the real person? Relationships take work and people, even good people, are complicated and chaotic. I keep asking myself these questions as I replay the events of last New Year’s Eve. It was a night that felt so magical that I...
The Ding
I had just gotten off the phone with my manager. I was being laid off. It was my third job in less than a year. I dropped two ice cubes into a glass and poured myself chardonnay to the brim. I sipped until it was no longer on the brink of overflowing and took it outside onto my balcony. I dragged the second chair closer to the table and propped my feet on it. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back. It wasn’t very nice out; a leftover chill still clung to the air from the just passing winter. I’d lost three jobs and a boyfriend in the past year, a serious boyfriend, a man I loved to the moon a...
Water-demon witness
There was a crackle and hiss. Faint though they were, I felt them down to my core, beckoning to me. I stirred from my prolonged sleep, latching onto the sound, searching for its source, and caught onto it. It flared up, the rush tingling through my limbs as they stretched out, like yawning babes waking from a deep slumber only they could muster. I licked at the air, the chilly evening far too cold for my liking. Far too cold for the man who stood before me too, apparently.He rubbed his palms together, the dry calluses whooshing together rhythmically, before extending them towards me. I rose hi...