Esmerelda_Deliveries and Driving Rain..._Elements of the Soul_Be Kind
Catalog Guide:
Esmerelda
Two of the screws in my porthole have fallen out. Five rusty ones remain. The window shakes with every wave that slams into it. Water runs down the wall, making puddles on the floor.If our captain wasn’t oblivious of the world around him, I might bother to tell him we’re sinking. His nose is too high in the air to see the moldy wood at his feet. It’s coming in through the cracks in the wood and the rain from above. We’re being drowned, slowly.He only cares about his pile of broken things. He dreams of fixing everything that lay at his feet. Yet, he won’t look down.I took the liberty of collect...
Deliveries and Driving Rain...
“Sorry about the rain. It’s an important delivery. I would say wait for another day, but...” said my boss over the phone.“No problem, I actually love the rain,” I assured.Silence. Aside from a few people who also watch rain channels on YouTube, I was usually met with this kind of pause when I professed my true feelings for the act of water falling from the sky in some form, strength, or capacity.With a cup of coffee in the car console and a lengthy music playlist, I started the long journey to Lleida from the outskirts of Barcelona with a small box on the back seat.The sky was cloudy, big purp...
Elements of the Soul
“I don’t want to ever so much as see crystals around here again Lissette! You do know this is what got your mother killed, don’t you?” Aunt Ivy’s pine green eyes shift back and forth, examining Lissette’s tawny diamond shaped face. “But it’s also what made her feel alive.” Lissette responds. “I don’t understand how you so easily turnwww.onedoor.cced your back on our traditions all those years ago. What? Simply because you’re scared?” “Fear isn’t always a bad thing Lissette. You’re young, so you think you know everything, but you don’t. Please just stop with the magic. I already lost Ava,” The name catches i...
Be Kind
On the seventh day, Trudy considered her work and rested. She sat down gently on her flower-patterned antique couch, beautifully enshrined in plastic to preserve its perfection. One sat gently because to plop would be un-ladylike and incorrect, but also because it would make a noise that imitated flatulence. She had spent the prior six days painting the canvas sign, with the large calligraphy of the simple two-word command, “Be kind.” Trudy considered Mel, dead two years and one week. Mel plopped. One never knew if it was an imitation until the invisible cloud touched the olfactory nerve. Me...