Droplets_The Deliberate Walker_On Evil's Side_Sayonara Sensei of Sin
Catalog Guide:
Droplets
The droplets darkened, diluting as they pulled the ink from Melvin’s writing. He sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He crumpled the paper and tossed it over his shoulder. He fanned himself as he leaned back in his seat, gazing over his desk. The corn swayed in a gentle breeze beyond the glass, a deceitfully pleasant scene in the midst of the mid-August swelter. Still, he felt a compulsion to go bask in the peaceful illusion. He strained as he pushed himself up, gripping the chair’s arm tightly in his struggle to balance. He waved at his desk dismissively- he hadn’t yet found the prope...
The Deliberate Walker
The old man likes to walk.The rhythmic footsteps, the sense of progress, the chance to think things through, to pray, to deliberate, to purposefully plod, the series of small decisions that the walking inevitably includes, the brief stop on the corner of 7th Avenue and 49th Street or Fort Hamilton and New Utrecht, the quick glances, first left, then right, then straight ahead, always in that order, before the controlled and, at the same time, gut-instinct determination is made on the optimal path to take on that particular day, at that particular intersection, the streets quiet or teeming with...
On Evil's Side
“Almost there,” Hades’ slightly-distorted voice whispered over the walkie-talkie. “Take another left at the end of this street. There’ll be a security camera pwww.onedoor.ccointed right at you on one of the side shop’s backdoors. Keep outta its way. You don’t wanna mess up this time!” He hissed, the same way he hissed at almost everything he said. I took a careful turn to the left of the street, eyeing the camera he had just mentioned. It was a moving camera, that turned from left to right. “Okay, okay. Stop crawlin’ up my back, Dude. It’s annoying. And might I remind you who’s fault it was the last time we...
Sayonara Sensei of Sin
Inspired by The Joy Luck Club – "Sayonara Sensei of Sin" – 1/15/14; Mrs. Dowling's Creative Writing I class, 10th grade. Juxtaposed by Sampson was a doll, a ningyō, to be exact. The woman’s face, pale with the brush of a white powder, seemed to smile at him. Her fan, placed delicately in her arm — flagrant with bold reds and bright yellows — appeared imperial and majestic. Ever so slightly, the eyes blinked once, then twice, and finally she battered her eyes in succession. The doll mocked him, buffeting Sampson with its blinking! His eyes grew cross.“Get out of my sight!” he yelled, throwing t...