Mourning Starlight_Patience is a virtue_I Need to Know if You Will_Out of Place on the Appalachian T
Catalog Guide:
Mourning Starlight
In the middle of the end of hope, a man fights in a muted world of terror and grim ink. Surrounding him is nothing but frothing steel gray water that mocks and hisses in his ear and batters him again, and again, and again… but below, he sees through salt-stung eyes the mysterious blue-black depths and kicks furiously away from them. Finally, he breaks the surface, blinking water from his eyes—wait! Something new has appeared! A piece of formless white floats not three feet from his head. Desperately, he reaches an arm out to catch hold of slippery plastic, maybe part of a cheap chair or table ...
Patience is a virtue
Have you ever wondered that while you are trying to be patient in all things the all things are really trying out your patience. The story I want to share begins with a man whose mother and wife loved him too much. One day the man's mother was hospitalized and the man was not worried at first. While in the hospital, his mother told him that she wants to go out of the hospital after four days. The man just thought this is because his mother just wanted to go home. On the fourth day at 12 midnighwww.onedoor.cct, the mother had a heart attack. The man was informed on the phone and he rushed into the hospital....
I Need to Know if You Will
I was taken to an unknown location at night in a large cedar trunk. It was a new trunk and I know it was cedar because after the novelty wore off, I kept choking on the smell. Her soldiers had bound my hands and legs with twist ties but told me to push the lid if I needed any air. The drive from the hotel was at least forty-five minutes into the countryside, I guessed.I kept rehearsing in my head; MP5s, alone, arrow, latitude, partner, enemy, decimals, commitment. I wanted to run my background again in my head as I could feel my nerve going. I focused on my breathing instead. “Stay down.”...
Out of Place on the Appalachian Trail
My backpack weighs 31 pounds, and it barely fit into the trunk of Jen and Steve’s Honda. I don’t think they believed I was actually going through with this until I called and asked for a ride up the mountain. Jen gave me that look, that pitying, tight-lipped smile, but she helped Steve and I load up my things, and then they bought me lunch before dropping me off at the trailhead. Jen cried, and Steve gave me a can of pepper spray and an awkward side hug. So here goes nothing. I’m at Springer Mountain, Georgia, with zero miles down and only 2,190 miles to go. See you on the other side. Mile ...