Let Her Be Little_Summer Nights_Whispering Oak_No Jumping Off Bridge
Catalog Guide:
Let Her Be Little
He adjusted his bow-tie for the third time in the vanity mirror. His charcoal eyes were weary as he pulled it apart and started it again. The little red bow always looked a little eschew. When he finished it for the fourth time, he ran his hand through the tufwww.onedoor.cct of hair on the top of his head, pulling it up to give it volume and then flattening it back down again. “What’s wrong, Hector?” Teresa asked, popping into the mirror behind him. Her tan skin shone in the fluorescent light, as did the muffins in her hand. “I made these fresh for you and Callie. I thought you were looking forward to them....
Summer Nights
Triger warning: mention of domestic violence and rape.I am lying on my back on the rooftop of Shahrazad’s house, in Morocco. The sky is clear, the stars are glittering and the smell of the incense (a substance that is burned for the sweet smell it produces, frequently use in Arab countries) is filling the air. My name is Khadija Hassan and I am a reporter from Lebanon, I came here on the request of my boss Gazzi something to investigate some peculiar incident that potentially happened thirty years ago. Before going on about what is the incident you must be informed about how I entered in an ol...
Whispering Oak
If trees could talk....I can talk and I have listened to this cliché whispered right under my branches. If people would stop and listen to the breeze that might hear my story or the stories of my branches. I am 460 years old I don't remember when or how I became planted I just know over the years of what I have experienced and things I have heard. Oh, yeah, I am a Carolina Oak tree, planted and grown right here in South Carolina, oh no one planted me, I am a tree from a tree. If trees could talk, well, shall we begin.My memories begin with hearing voices of an ancient people, people who took c...
No Jumping Off Bridge
“You wanna do something fun?” Brandy asked, nudging Garret on the arm with her knobby elbow. “I think there’s a river nearby.” It was a hot and stormy summer day. Heavy gray clouds clung to each other in the sky. Fat raindrops steamed on the burning blacktop soothing it so that Garret Perkins and Brandy Hershaw could run barefoot down to the river. It was their last summer before they knew to feel shame for going around in only their bathing suits. Brandy and Garret met the evening prior around a fire pit where their parents stayed up chatting long into the night, drinking wine from plastic cu...