Two Friends on the Library Stairs, After Hours_Ally and the Lost Soul_If Only I Could Speak_A Wise C
Catalog Guide:
Two Friends on the Library Stairs, After Hours
Wow, this feels so…surreal.What does?Being back here, like this.Oh, yeah. I know what you mean. It’s like, a good weird though. Like we went back in time or something.Yeah, it’s great. I really missed this.Me too.How many years has it been, exactly? Since we were sitting here last, having a drink?It must’ve been when we met up the year after graduation, when I was passing through for work and you were visiting Rachel, so like…nine years? Holy shit, nine years…It’s been way too long, man.Nine years…all that time and you still willingly choose to drink PBR. (laughs) Are we technically old now?Go...
Ally and the Lost Soul
Mark, the guitar boy strums his guitar. Abby, the popular girl pushes boys around, giggling with her friends. Carter, the school “hot boy”, plays football on the lunch blacktop. Robin, the head of the surf club, trades beach locations with his friends. Just another day at Mountain-ridge high-school. It's approximately 12:45, lunch time. After 4 straight hours of long boring classes, I am munching on a much deserved turkey sandwich. A few of my friends are laughing about some joke next to me. -Rosie, the overly sweet one who doesn't know what personal space is. -Paisley, the hyperactive one w...
If Only I Could Speak
Sonare sat characteristically silent as people wandered. Most residents vowed to spoken silence. Residing within Sonare, while a citied paradise, proved nothing short of cursed. Should words venture past inhabitants’ lips, they would only speak truths. Be it harsh, relationship-ending, or wanted, the city of Sonare existed not for the faint of heart. Rarely, when conversation arose, it was short and simple—devoid of needed opinion.The city held not a date of birth or history of construction. The place had just been. Surely, if a soul brave enough asked the question repeatedly, one may have had...
A Wise Choice
***Contains some minor use of adult language MIRANDA’S PERSPECTIVE:“BLOOD! Blood! Mommy, it’s blood!”In a panic, the (on the end of its life-span, bristles turned yellow, while starting to smell of mildew) dish-scrubber escaped my hand and plopped into the soapy ocean below (well, more like a murky, disease ridden river), where bits of macaroni and cheese and old milk floated amongst an army of plastic nipples, metal straws, spoons, www.onedoor.ccand a pan with last night’s dinner glued to the edges. It was a bungled run as I slipped on some water below, because nothing in this Goddamn house works properly....