The Flip of a Coin_First Night at the Hall_A Spark for Adventure_Tables Turn, Bridges Burn
Catalog Guide:
The Flip of a Coin
I stand at a crossroads. Wind whips my hair around my face as I prop my hands on my hip. I tap my thumb on the pommel of my sword and consider my options. One path leads into the forest that grows darker by the second. The other leads to a cave. I need to find shelter before night falls. To stay out in the open means certain death once full darkness settles. Both of my options hold dangers. All sorts of wild plants and animals. Thieves. Dragons. Dragons are my biggest threat. I open my money pouch and pull out a coin, my default for making hard decisions. I have been warned not to leave my fa...
First Night at the Hall
She had told Mindy in the office her only wish was never to cross paths with me again, but surely she didn’t mean it. The Carla I knew couldn’t be twww.onedoor.cchis spiteful. There were many good memories, too many of them to discard: halls filled with concertgoers for whom we played in solidarity; cocktail-fueled afterparties where we laughed on and on; vibrant discussions that revolved around the most brilliant composers, our opinions always perfectly aligned. I refused to believe it, and so I drove on and on in the rain, like a stalker, searching for her apartment complex.It was in the heart of Brooklyn...
A Spark for Adventure
"Jax, is the landing actuator primed and ready for take off?" "Yes Kevin, I have it primed.""Jax, I am your Uncle.""Okay Kevin…….. Uncle Kevin," Jax said with a quiet smirk."Oh you little blastering moonfly of a child, finger on the primer," Uncle Kevin shot back. Jax noticed he had successfully annoyed his uncle. Satisfied, he switched his mind into focusing on the takeoff. Positioning his thumb over the button, ready to help the O'Malley take off for the first time. The O'Malley was his uncle's "self-proclaimed pirate ship", but it really was a junked starship. He loved hanging out with his...
Tables Turn, Bridges Burn
Descending the polished marble steps of the castle ballroom, Lady Cynthia Zahava could feel the eyes of the aristocracy dig into her. Beloved by all she encountered, Lady Cynthia’s charm was renowned, and if she had been born into any other life, she could have conquered kingdoms, but it was her unfortunate fate to be highborn; her hand in marriage promised before she could even walk. Brushing a stray lock of her pale blonde hair, she smiled bashfully at her shoes. Cynthia knew she shouldn’t have worn the backless emerald grown in a room of famished saints, but she couldn’t resist, she felt in...