It's all in the name_In the arms of golden grass_WHAT A FOOL!_Blackbirds
Catalog Guide:
It's all in the name
Those long beautiful fingers with their immaculately filed nails gently holding the tiny white bud to present it to her like a beautifully wrapped gift,“Here they come Lily, these little flowers are your namesake.”She looks wistfully at Lily, the face looking back at her so subtly showing all she has lost and yet embodying all she has to be grateful for. Standing in her pristine garden with its borders she has spent careful hours planning, deciding with care what to plant. She feels everyone of her sixty five years, how much longer can she do this for, the combined role of mother and grandmoth...
In the arms of golden grass
I unfurled the rough beef sandwich. I felt the crust with my finger. it was cold. the way I liked it. I sniffed the bread. the beef aroma filled my nostrils. it smelt terribly of home. and mama. tears started to bubble in my eyes. "are you ok?"it was a boy two seats behind me. he had a sticky finger up his nose while sucking his upper lip. he seemed to be eyeing up my beef sandwich."go away" I hissed, hugging my beef sandwich of home."no need to be like that"the boy pulled out his finger from his nose and wiped it, luxuriously, on a girl who was sitting beside him. she didn't seem to notice. M...
WHAT A FOOL!
The pale crescent moon shone like a silver dime in the night sky, peeking through the cracks of the blinds in Nico’s bedroom as he sat on his twin-sized bed starring at his alarm, calmly waiting for the time to change. He couldn’t sleep a wink because he was prepared for what’s to come the next day. Nico had made sure that all windows and doors werewww.onedoor.cc to be locked, all rooms in the house were to be cleaned, and that it had looked isolated before April 1st.Nico did not particularly enjoy April Fools because it was the day to pull pranks and jokes on people. Every year his friends would pull prank...
Blackbirds
The woodland boy looked down at the stranger, whose outstretched arms were turning a map this way and that. A deer in a tree would have looked less out of place.“The blackbirds say you’ve gotten lost.”He didn’t jump. Not one bit. His shoulders didn’t even hike. All he did was lower the map slightly, and cock his head to the side.“It’s rude to follow people like that, you know,” came the reply. “And no, I’m not!”The boy was around his age—almost fifteen springs old, or thereabouts. He swivelled around, and let the map disappear into the fabric of his cloak. There was a bead of sweat trickling d...