Where the Fairies Live_MY CINDERELLA GIRL_The Story of the Intern_The Man at Pier's End
Catalog Guide:
Where the Fairies Live
Carmen was fresh into 3rd grade, with no care in the world. One day she would be learning about how to write in cursive and the next on how to play four square. Everyday after school she would call her grawww.onedoor.ccndfather and tell him about everything that happened. He was her best friend. She would mark off the days on calendar to when she got to see him next. When the days would finally hit the big red circle, she would get ready to go see him. Every time she would wear her favorite bow and pink shoes. Her pink shoes were a gift from him, so every time she wore them it was like he was there. Carmen ...
MY CINDERELLA GIRL
I've got a plan my Cinderella girl to win your heart, to show you best friends can fall in love and stay in love until the end of time.Isabella my best friend, the one person in this whole world who has stolen my heart. These letters are for her. These letters will reveal how I feel for Isabella.What these letters won't reveal is my identity. I will reveal myself when the time is right. I will be watching Isabella from afar. Here is letter No.1My Cinderella girl, I watch you from afar with your big beautiful smile that shines bright like the sun. Your captivating greens that are as green as th...
The Story of the Intern
“Don’t you remember?” the intern had said to me earlier that day. We’d been at work. He’d wandered into my office with that traditional sly smile of his. “You said you’d come out with us tonight.”It wasn’t a good idea, considering we worked together. It wasn’t a good idea, considering I was attracted to him and he had a girlfriend waiting for him not so far away. That evening, when I pressed foundation onto the dark circles beneath my eyes, I repeated the phrase, hoping that it would stick this time. It’s not a good idea. That night, I passed him furtive glances.Nothing. A younger boy, tanned...
The Man at Pier's End
On nights like tonight, I find myself drifting among the stars. Even ten years on from my last visit to this corner of the sea, it still takes my breath away. Specks of light mark the dark canvas overhead like jewels in a pine tapestry. Bits of sand hug my toes as the tide rolls in and out again like sleep on a restless night. This place, more than any other, is full of cycles. Cycles of life, cycles of death, cycles of birth and rebirth. Much of what was here ten years ago is gone, replaced by something new. Even so, the brushing of the wind on my skin is the same as it was. I wonder if it re...