Biking with Maridel_The Eight-year Cycle_Married to a man-eater_Jar of Tears
Catalog Guide:
Biking with Maridel
Hi, my name is Maridel, but my friends call me Mary. Not Ma-ry, but Mah-ry. I was biking with my dad and brother in the middle of Nowhere. Nowhere is the town I live in, but it looks pretty close to the middle of nowhere. Nowhere and nowhere are very different places. So we were biking in the middle of Nowhere, when I smelled something. It smelled like hot fudge, Neapolitan ice cream, whipped cream, and caramelized cherries combined into one food. Dessert Taco, I thought. I totally forgot that I was biking when I was whisked back into a very interesting memory. I was camping with my dad, broth...
The Eight-year Cycle
"Pa, let me make your tea." He looks at her as she weaves her hands into her hair. He likes how she reminds him of snowfalls. He doesn't know who she is except that in eight years, the police would find her in her kitchen, an empty packet of cigarettes beside her bloodied form. He's seen that before and it doesn't scare him anymore."Of course. Add a lot of milk." He tells her."But..." She stops herself and begins to walk away."What?" He asks.The morning is purple as if someone has drowned it before. She pulls the curtain apart and begins to fold them carefully. He sees the sun, the color of un...
Married to a man-eater
MARRIED TO A MAN-EATER!!“Is it her?” “Yes, your majesty.” “She is a little tiny for someone with such a great destiny. Wouldn’t you agree?” He laughs side-splittingly. By a hair's breadth, I could hear some indistinct voices. Trying to listen in closely, a sound of a man’s feet approaching took me a little by surprise. I had little to no time at all to prepare, hence in a tick of a clock, a bucket full of ice-cold water emptied on my bare skin on a chilly winter morning, got me screaming on the top of my voice. Mind you, up to this moment, I did feel a little cold but I had no idea that I was...
Jar of Tears
There’s something about wrinkles in the morning. They’re golden with silhouettes of the issues people experienced back in high school. Jax is familiar with them like he is familiar with the ring on his middle finger that binds him to no one. He has one, a wrinkle, and it stretches across his forehead in a diagonal sort of way. Even when he smooths out the skin, it returns, even uglier than before. Perhaps this is the reason why his sister encouraged him to drive into the middle of nowhere with a car that can’t go faster than 30 mph. He doesn’t mind, though, when the wind swimwww.onedoor.ccs through his hai...