Elevator_What is That?_Eyes of the Beholder_Cling
Catalog Guide:
Elevator
The Uber driver dropped her off outside the big building on Broadway. But as she approached the huge glass revolving door, she had a sudden sense of doubt, and faked a phone call so she could walk a few feet away and think about what she was doing.No, this was www.onedoor.ccridiculous. She had come all the way down here, she had made her choice, and how would she feel if she just turned around and went home? She’d spent a lot of time thinking about how to do this, and battled a lot of anxiety to get this far. And maybe something good would come of it. The whole situation felt risky, but inevitable. And what...
What is That?
“Remind me, what time is the Christmas party tonight?” I walk out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around me, and Jim is still in bed, just like he was when I walked into the shower. “Seven, I think? Or maybe it was six. I don’t know, I thought we weren’t going?” his voice follows me as I walk into our closet, reaching for a dress. “Actually, we never agreed on that. Come on, Jim, we should go. You should go, I thought you wanted to be promoted? If you want to be considered for the job, we should go.” “What about a babysitter?” “I’ll ask one of my girlfriends if they can watch them. I’ll fi...
Eyes of the Beholder
There was nothing festive or Christmassy about lobster, and he would not be convinced otherwise. Throwing a few shrimps on the “barbie” and calling it Christmas dinner was clearly deranged. The sheer convenience of it upset him, never mind the distinct lack of stodge. Bowls of roast veg, glazed in honey, a rich, thick gravy (none of this watery piss either), a tangy cranberry sauce, and the pièce de résistance, in the center of it all. Preferably on a red tablecloth decorated with candles and Christmas crackers.Sunlight shone brightly into his kitchen. It barged in like an unwelcome guest. How...
Cling
It was another packed house in the gym on a cold Friday night. The vibrations from the screams could be felt no matter where you were sitting in the gym. Especially if you were sitting on the end of the bench where Dante was sitting. That’s where he always sat... at the edge of the bench with a towel over his head wishing it was an invisibility cloak. He never got in the game. He didn’t care. Why would he. At 5’9” with a scrawny build, why would he get to play? Surely nobody else cared about him either. Not even his father, whose absence in the stands did not go unnoticed by Dante. N...