Abernathy’s Orchard_He was a good man_Move On: Rock bottom_Emancipation Of Uncle Samson
Catalog Guide:
Abernathy’s Orchard
Twelve-year-old Mark Reynolds was getting a head start on teenage angst. He was beyond annoyed his mother was forcing him to go apple picking on a Saturday he could have spent playing video games, eating junk food, and texting his friends.Mark hadn’t been out to Wentworth Acres since he was ten.Admittedly, he’d loved going there when he was a kid. Picking apples, riding the hay wagon out to the field beyond the orchard to choose the perfect pumpkin to carve and put on the front step, running around the haybale castle, whooshing down the slides, and eating caramel apples with his friends had be...
He was a good man
The crowd of mourners started gathering when the message hit the airwaves. Some had heard through the grapevine, and others were neighbours who had never stepped into Errin's yard when he was alive. His widow was in the main lounge, watching the sunset reddening the distant horizon through the French windows, as she sat cross-legged on cushions, like the traditional African wife she had always been. Her young sister and other close relatives were hovering around trying to console her. They watched the proceedings and who was coming in and out. The room, cleared of all furniture except two sof...
Move On: Rock bottom
Ever reached rock bottom? No, not that fantasy world with the talking fishes and tasty burgers. It's a mental place. And when you get there, your brain automatically tells you to leave. Get out. Move on. But it's never easy.Some of us didn't exactly stick the landing and we're broken pieces scattered around.Maybe we pick ourselves together, maybe we don't. Maybe we're too tired, tired of it all, tired from the drop, tired of being broken, tired of being put back together, tired of falling after getting back up, or like I said before just tired of it all. So we traipse all broken. Not like a lo...
Emancipation Of Uncle Samson
He suddenly jerked awake, sweating profusely. He sat still on the bed mopping at nothing in pwww.onedoor.ccarticular, even the walls opposite him, he was not seeing. 15 minutes later, after a cup of cold water and visit to the toilet, he went back to sleep. After his morning routine, Samson sat on his settee reminiscing about incident of last night. He could not remember the last time he had any nightmare that concerns him to the extent of drawing sweats all over, yet, he couldn’t even remember 50 percent of what he witnessed in the dream. All he could remember was that a man he had seen once or twice at t...