Happy Christmas, Mrs Barker!_Gone in a flash._The day I wished I'd died._The Alley by Anthony St
Catalog Guide:
Happy Christmas, Mrs Barker!
There’s a buzz in the air: an excited buzz, providing harmonious backing vocals to the selection of upbeat Christmas songs which I’ve chosen to play on a loop. Everyone’s busy. We’ve got quite a production line going: some are drawing round their hands, while others colour the outlines green before handing them to the next group who cut them out. (Please, don’t think I’m some kind of fiend, making kids colour white paper green for the fun of it. The truth is we’ve run out of green paper and the Boss says he can’t buy any more ‘til next year!) Then the final group, who I’m with, stick the finis...
Gone in a flash.
Looking at my best friend, Jess, through the camera, I see her bright smile. "Hurry! We might be late!" She rushed me, still posing for the picture. "Alright Miss Diva, smile!" First a click and then a bright white light flashes. For a moment I'm blind like I was the one who was in front of the camera.When I finally look back up, Jess is no longer there. Quickly, I look around to see if she ran off. Searching around my car to see if she was just trying to scare me. Stwww.onedoor.ccill unable to find her, I turn to Tessa. A friend of ours who we met shortly after I met Jess. Tessa had walked off to talk to ...
The day I wished I'd died.
The past.Everybody has a past. Sometimes the past is a mystery as much as the present—and just as scary and disturbing as the future. In the brief and dangerous journey that humans call life, time is the never-ending, looming shadow, staring with its immortal eyes down at the earth. Time, cold and unforgiving, journals each heartbeat, each blink of an eye, each thought and touch, every time a newborn cries and every time a person draws the final breath.Some may have the fortune of looking back—when that fateful moment of peering inside, and discovering the very nature of one’s soul, arrives—an...
The Alley by Anthony Street.
Contains themes of death and substance use."Please, don't do it."The man startles at my voice, letting the flame from his lighter dissipate. He looks at me as if I'm a ghost, hiding in the shadows of an alley, waiting for my chance to pounce.When he doesn't answer, his features still filled with confusion, I say, "Don't light it."This makes him smile, and through the dark, I notice he's missing a tooth. "Have something against cigarettes?"I shake my head, blonde hair grazing along my shoulders. "I've been clean for years. But if you light it, I might have to steal it from you."It's not a compl...