The Untimely Death of a Dream_A Halloween Tale_Comic Relief_The Deputy
Catalog Guide:
The Untimely Death of a Dream
“I think this is it, Gil.” Hattie flashed the information sheet she had printed from the internet with a picture of their new home at her husband. Gil was quiet. She looked down at the well creased page and up again, comparing the photo to real life. “This is going to be so great!” They struggled to make it down the goat trail that served as a driveway. The couple were pulling a trailer too large for their car which caused the weary sedan to protest in metallic screeches along the bumpy dirt path.The brakes cried out in agony as Gil stomped the pedal to the floor and shifted into park. His fa...
A Halloween Tale
Who would guess a jack- o’- lantern carved to look like Edgar Allan Poe would become an internet sensation? The carver, Velveeta Cooksey of the little town of Rhodie (named after rhodendrons) in the Pacific Northwest, had captured Poe’s strange, off kilter, asymmetrical face in the media of pumpkin.Most people didn’t know that Poe’s face was off-balance. Velveeta did, because when she was a teenager reading horror stories, she looked up Poe on the internet to see what he looked like. Her brother. who was snooping over her shoulder, asked Velveeta if she had heard about the famous Poe picture e...
Comic Relief
“Lyn, that you? Door’s not locked—just come in for fuck’s sake—I’m famished … Who the frig are you?”“Brett.”“Do I know you?”“Not really.”“Who let you backstage?”“No one.”“What’s the matter with your nose.”“Nothing. Walked into a door.”“Looks pretty cut up. So I don’t know you?”“Well, not exactly, no.”“Then get the fuck out. Hang on … Lyn, where are you? I tried to call you a moment ago … I want some … Shit wait, phones out of juice. I ain’t got my charger. Hey, Brad!”“Brett.”“Quickly mate, you’ve gotta phone? Great. Take this number. Zero … got it?”“Okay.”“Treble seven nine. That’s three sev...
The Deputy
It was a long time before anyone spoke, but the boy knew almost immediately that he had madewww.onedoor.cc a mistake. “What kind of a question is that?” His father, halfway through his rice pilaf and roasted vegetables, was frozen with anger. He shook his dreadlocks at the boy and seemed to be on the edge of breakdown. “Who would ask such a thing over dinner?” Sympathy was not forthcoming from his mother, a woman much younger and calmer than his dad, but still tight with her annoyance. “Oh, darling, you can’t pose such a question while we are eating. It just isn’t right.” She attempted to spoon more chick p...