From Boy to Man through Bird_A Top-Ten List of Stories to Write_A Chronicle of Chroniker Confusion_F
Catalog Guide:
From Boy to Man through Bird
I'll be the first to admit that as a young, average man, I'm far from anyone’s first choice. Over my 24 years, 12,877,200 minutes and 56,864,000 seconds of life I've had but a couple girlfriends, a few good friends and more bullies than I could count using all the teeth in my mouth or hair on my head. I want to say I'm depressed to excuse my blawww.onedoor.ccnd cycle of sleep and work, but I dont think I'm even that. I get up every morning and do the same damn thing until my fucking head hurts. I crawl into bed each night wishing to be something, anything other than the middle. I reek of average, the kind o...
A Top-Ten List of Stories to Write
One“What you lookin’ at?”It was a sweet voice that asked the question, and one that he was very familiar with. It sounded so normal in the room, in his home and in his life that he didn’t even turn. He only answered, his eyes fixed on the newspapers:“The obituary that they have inserted here. Even though the picture is black and white, it looks so bright and beautiful.”“Really?” was the reply he got, and he nodded as a tear rolled down his cheek.“I don’t know how I’ll go on now,” he muttered as he ran his fingers over the picture.“You will,” came the answer. “Life goes on.”He nodded and contin...
A Chronicle of Chroniker Confusion
“…and a whole lot of raisins!” I licked my lips in anticipation of the baked goods I had just ordered. Loved by few and hated by most, raisin cookies were one of my favorite snacks to devour on a cold winter day. I thanked the baker, Mr. Moreno, and began to walk home, careful not to slip on the ice since my ankle had been recently broken. There was very little snow on the ground, but the morning frost was lain thick; each ice crystal catching a ray of light and glinting off the one beside it. Breathing in the crisp air, I stopped and examined some beautiful hoarfrost forming on a nearby bu...
For Those About To Roc
Dennis peeked outside his cabin and then dialed up his friend Tybalt. His front garden was getting destroyed, and he did not appreciate it.“Hello?”“Hey, Tybalt, it’s Dennis.”“Hi! Happy birthday, Dennys! Did you get my gift?” Tybalt asked, bursting with enthusiasm.A spray of crimson splashed across his window followed by screams of the deliverymen. “I think so.” Dennis said.“So, I know how you like birds…”“Kind of a faux pax-” Dennis started.“So I got you a Roc!” Tybalt said.“-to gift a pet.” Dennis finished.“How is it? Is it adorable?”“They managed to bolt it to cement block, but I don’t ...