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The Forgotten Train Ticket

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The attic was a labrrinth of lost memories, each dusty box holding a piece of things barely even recalled. Fiona, the one who had recently inherited the ancient Victorian household was cautiosly sifting through a box of her old great-grandmother's belongings where he finger brushed against an old leather pouch. Inside, nestled among faded photograps, laid a tarnished locket, was one train ticket, it's edges long-frayed, the ink faded butt the destination printed clearly on the ticket: "Faronay." "Faronay?" she murmured, turning the ticket over in her hands a few times. She had never before heard of such a place and a quick Google search yielded her no results. It looked like it was a real ticket with an actual train station address and departure date, but the location that would be arrived at was completely unknown. Curiousity gnawed at her without any relent. Could it possibly be a typo? Or perhaps it was a fictional place from a book her great-grandmot

To Love

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I remember it. The sensation was not of life, no, buut of the damp earth, pressing roughly against my skin. It was indeed a slow, agonizing awakening, much like a seed pushing its way through the soil, except instead of being greeted by sunlight, I was greeted by the pale, haunting glow of the moon filtering soundly through the graveyard's willow canopy, giving the illusion of peace. I was Emily, the Corpse Bride (yes, the tales are true), and my life, or rather, my death, had been quite the affair not to bother anyone, it had indeed been an overlooked whisper drifting in the forgotten annals of time. Then, one unexpected day, an ungenteel, noisy young lad bequethed the name of Victor stumbled (basically tripped) into my unnoticeable grave. He was rehearsing his wedding vows (the nerve!), his voice reverberating eerily in the frozen stillness, and in his timid fumbling, he dropped the wedding ring onto my finger, thinking that it was only a tree-root (he has to be forgiven for tha

True Defeat

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It was a sultry dawn with a cloudless sky painting a light cerulean blue across the heavens. The wind was only a light brushing of air, barely even noticeable. Something cool wiping your arm really. People walking down the streets were doing so in baggy, sleeveless t-shirts, they weren't in the thick wool sweaters they had worn in winter with their pants rolled halfway up their legs. I believe it was in blessed June, the hottest month of the year. As I simply relished in the breeze's presence on that day, it was lifting my hair with an enjoyably light, spider-like movement, I noticed Ben, sitting halfway across the field (where no one would expect him to be). Let me tell you about Ben. He was the youngest in my class, nothing more than a timid, frail, exceedingly polite boy who in my opinion, still was clinging onto that last bit of boyhood far too tightly. He had moved here from somewhere and hence joined my class only a few small weeks ago and much like me, lacked any tru

Savory Sweets

I went on my tiptoes and took a deep breath in through my nose. Ahhh…I loved everything when it came to this time of year, though nothing could really compare when it came to my feelings for this hybrid species, a cross between both water mint and spearmint. It was sweet. It was indigenous to Europe and the Middle East (two places I would in all likelihood never have the chance to visit in my life, and anyway, even though this unique species did have its start in those places in specific, through the years, it had now been cultivated and spread out to all regions of the world.) In fact it was even found in the reclusive sections of the wild with other species, including its parent one. It was small, usually patterned in small red and white stripes, had a preemptive scent to it that seemed to tickle my whole body starting at my trembling toes in anticipation of it and reaching into some of my deepest, most memorable memories. (It is weird how touching some things can be to the slightest

What I just read...

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I just finished the first book in "The Kingdom and the Crown" series by Gerald N. Lund yesterday (Easter). It is called "Fishers of Men" and it was amazing!  They should really make it into a movie . 

Negatively New

Of all the villians (it feels wrong to compliement them as good...but if I had a word, that would be it, I'm sorry to say) that Disney has shown a representation of, I find Gaston to be truly the most terrifying villian because he really could be representing ANYONE in the world. Later on from this dreadful scene, he convinces (and is eager) the whole town to set up his wedding with full knowlege that the would-be bride would have to be thrown into it. Everyone also finds his creepy tactics as cute and pushing all negative thoughts aside with the slogan of "boys will be boys." Ewww...Gross! So, if you don't see it yet, he makes a pretty terrifying character. So, you see, the true terror of this story of "Beauty and the Beast" isn't that Gaston exists, but that all the background characters that represent plain society freaking (plus ignorantly) love him! What is the world truly coming to? Really?? People who plainly deride this flick by saying that i

Our Little Miracle is Here ❤️

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Introducing Nathaniel Anthony Duran! (As of August 31, 2022 😁)