What a boy should do_The Hotel Dandridge_Varying Horizons_KINDRED
Catalog Guide:
What a boy should do
I should thank the mysterious ‘Cargo Cult’ for giving this room an actual, bona fide purpose. For too long it’s been the den of my inequities—the place where it’s easier for me to just throw things in, rather than putting them away. Or getting rid of them altogether.When all those boxes were in this room, you couldn’t see how the walls aren’t even the same color. Maybe they did this on purpose, the opposite walls are the same beige. They’re different shades of beige, one more orange, the other more pink. Both beige, but not the same. Odd.Drew is going to be a busy boy when he gets back from hi...
The Hotel Dandridge
“What is all this fuss and bother about?” the owner of the demolition company complained. “It's just another big, old, ugly, worthless building. It's empty and not earning anything. A parking lot would at least bring in some money.”“We don't need to be a town of almost nothing but parking garages and parking lots, Mr. Young,” the mayor retorted. “Wasn't that the lesson that Seattle had to learn so painfully? Why must we repeat what they had to go through? We already know what their result was.”Mr. Young sighed. “And what, pray tell, was their result?”“A beautiful old –” the mayor began.Mr. You...
Varying Horizons
As dusk settled into night the stars flickered to life, one by one, over the softly stirring ocean. Casual conversationwww.onedoor.cc amongst the family died down to whispers, almost as if the darkness was soaking up their voices.Standing up, the oldest of the group smiled and announced, "Time to begin." His bones creaked loudly, but the lines around his excited eyes spoke far louder.His family took the hint, and the whole of them drifted down the sanded hill to the place where the tide crept up to kiss the land. They lined up beside each other, their blood stretching far down the shoreline, all facing the ...
KINDRED
KINDREDI feel alone. Now that I’m an only child, with a quiet, tired father and a constantly sobbing mother. What’s worse, I can’t speak my heart out, barring a few deep groans to get someone’s attention when I’m upset, scared or angry. But many people can’t articulate themselves during grief anyway, feeling lost, confused and often self-destructive. Yet, they would want a familiar voice to comfort them with cliches like “I’m here for you”, or “it wasn’t your fault”. But in reality, I was deaf to voices and neither did such words ring true in my case. I deserved to be born with this curse, did...