The Legend of the Potomac Witches_With You_A Waste of Time_Pickled
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The Legend of the Potomac Witches
I scribble this statement with a trembling hand. My heart still pounds fiercely, though the horror I am about to relate is but two hours past. I have been taking brandy since I arrived at my home, but my nerves are yet unsettled. To he who holds this account, I implore you to read carefully and beware the great Patowmac River.My story begins on this last night of October, just after the clock in the city square had struck 11、 My brother John had paused in his travels from Pennsylvania colony to spend three days with me before returning to his studies at the College in Williamsburg.We rode out ...
With You
I wish you could see me this year. I look amazing. I must have checked myself in this mirror half a dozen times already. I can’t believe it. My skin is just the perfect shade of pale. I am, however, left with the harder decision of which party I am attending. On one hand, the jocks are throwing a killer kegger at Dylan’s, but Sam’s party are always a wild rave-like ride. And let’s be honest, Sam is hot. Like H-O-T, leave your boyfriend hot. Speaking of which, it’s odd I haven’t seen Max in days. I thought for sure he’d show up at some point. Are you guys www.onedoor.ccdone? Whatever, he’s old news anyway. S...
A Waste of Time
"It doesn't count if you're already planning your defeat, Doctor.""Don't you think I know that?" Dr Ellery-Staton took off his reading glasses, turning so his interlocutor could see the expression on his face. It was not encouraging.The royal-messenger-turned-research-assistant gave him what he hoped was a reassuring look. “You can do it, Doctor. If anybody can, it’s you.”Dr Ellery-Staton sighed. “That’s just the trouble. I don’t think anybody can do it. The thing is an impossibility. If even one person could do it, the thing would be already done.” He began to close the books and organise the...
Pickled
“It doesn’t count if you’re already planning your defeat,” Nick said. His perfectly ovalled nails glinted as he tapped them against the side of his sweating martini glass.“What doesn’t count?” Renee asked. “I’m going to eat the pickles, aren’t I?” Her short, wavy hair was disheveled and the expression on her round face was sour. She looked at the red lattice basket in front of her heaped high with fried pickles cooling into hardened grease. She stabbed one repeatedly with a cocktail straw. “Why did I enter this ridiculous contest?” She sighed.“Oh cheer up, babe,” Nick said. He leaned over on h...