● Music recommendation : Not in that way
Mahone tiredly slams the door of his bedroom, unbuttoning his coat. He spent more than three hours at some secret underground space for a certain address, got into a few fights too, when he finally found it, but the thought of being betrayed made his blood boiling. So, he did something to the guy who gave him the address and all he's feeling now is tiredness, not any regret.
He suddenly notices Lake lying on his bed. "What are you doing in my room?" he asks, pulling off his tie. "Don't you have your room? Go lie down there."
Lake glances at him for a second, then looks back the book she's holding. "I'm reading. I will go back when I finish this book. And no offense, but I couldn't like the guest room. It was kinda_ horror movies type room."
Mahone starts to unbutton his shirt, stepping to his wardrobe. "It's Uncle Kramer's house, so no offense is taken. What are you reading
Lynn VandestineHe pushes the door open of his new studio. Painting has always been his hobby, but it is his first time to open a workshop like this. When he was in his adolescence, it wasn't one of his pleasant times. In order to lighten his mood, he used to climb up at the top of his favourite mountain, with papers and paints in the backpack. Often, he brushed colors gently on the canvas, while thinking if a girl would appear in front of him just like that drawing.Now, the place can catch a plenty of natural light, one of the reason why he bought this. The layout is flexible, it's enough big for his work. The paintings around the studio are mostly portraits, but he drew some landscapes, too, tried to do another genre."Hi, Tom!" he greets the guy, who is moving his brush with so much attention, benting towards the easel. Tom is a local artist and a student of art college, once Lynn helped his big brother with a mission, so he k
Samlin GreenhamI open the stopper of toothpaste idly and stick some at my brush. I examine my face at the mirror - messy, high brown hair, static big blue eyes, red cheeks, swollen lips and wearing soft woollen pajamas.What did I do last night?As though to answer my question, my phone chimes with a chirp, lying on the cabinet. I pick up it and read the message.Lynn texted : 'Did you have a good sleep last night?'Last night? Was he with me? Where? Why can't I remember?I text : 'Were you with me? Was in the hospital? I know I might sound absurd but I can't remember it clearly.'Lynn : 'You really don't remember what you did do with me last night?' with a smirky emoji.What? What does he mean? I quickly wash my face with water, rubbing my cheeks. Yesterday, at afternoon, I was at our family graveyard, wasn't I? I spent some time there alone and talked. Then_ I went to a bar maybe. Oh God, I must hav
It's almost midnight. I quietly climb up the stairs to the rooftop. There is a little garden of flowers, now they are starting blossoming. I inhale deeply the sweet scent of them, crossing my arms across my chest. The air is cold but refreshing, it starts to calm my mind and I slowly stare up at the sky. It was my father who first taught me about the stars and constellation. I used to climb up a banyan tree beside our house, then jump at the roof. Dad also used to say that it was dangerous for me to go to the roof at night, but when I capriced to him to teach me the names of stars, he couldn't deny me. It's a moonless night, yeah, there is my favorite star, Rigil Kentaurus. I sigh again, watching the large constellation Ursa Major. Why am I sighing? Shouldn't I be happy tonight? Is something bothering me?"Watching stars?" a male voice says behind me, h
I lay behind my back, before the boat, and into darkness I must row. I rowed with weak arms, watching my hands to make sure I kept hold of the oars, for I could not feel my grip. I came thus into rough water and the dark, out on the open Gulf. There I had to stop. With each oarstroke the numbness of my arms increased. My heart kept bad time, and my lungs had forgotten how to get air. I tried to row but I was not sure my arms were moving. I tried to pull the oars into the boat then, but could not. When the sweet light of a harbour patrol ship picked me out of the night like a snowflake on soot, I could not even turn my eyes away from the glare.They unclenched my hands from the oars, hauled me up out of the boat, and laid me out like a gutted blackfish on t
few of the lords lingered to speak in quiet voices upwind of the fire. They fell silent when they saw looking at them. Should Stannis fall, they will pull me down in an instant. Neither was he counted one of the queen's men, that group of ambitious knights and minor lordlings who had given themselves to this Lord of Light and so won the favor and patronage of Lady—no, Queen, remember?—Selyse.The fire had started to dwindle by the time Myra and the squires departed with the precious sword. Ezekiel and his son joined the crowd making its way down to the shore and the waiting ships. "Devan acquitted himself well," he said as they went."He fetched the glove without dropping it, yes," said Dale.Allard nodded. "That badge on Devan's doublet, the fiery heart, what was that Black Horn sigil
Ninth lap. The last lap.I breath out, trying to swim more quickly. I don't know how many minutes have passed, but it feels like I'm doing my best.I have to prove.I have to prove that I'm not broken. I've suffered enough, I'm still hurting, but I'm not broken, Brian.And suddenly I touch the platform and lift me up, breathing heavily. I put off the goggles and remove the swimming cap from my head.Maria wraps a towel around my shoulder, grinning happily. "You did awesome, girl."I look up at the scoreboard.Samlin Greenham - 11:38.04 sPrisi Nessa Heuvel - 11:50.33 sAllyson Hardy - 11:57.45 sI laugh. I obviously beat Brian and my score is super close to Lynn. Coincidence, ha!"I beat him.""Beat 'Brian
I uncontrollably sit on the ground.Apparently I fall."Hey, hey, you okay?" Edwin hurriedly sits beside me."I'm fine." I answer shakily, closing my eyes. Actually I wasn't fine. I haven't seen my psychiatrist for almost a month, haven't taken my medication. Now, the flashbacks are gone, but I still have the headache.I am breathing hard.I wonder what caused the flashbacks."C'mon," he wraps my left arm around his shoulder and lifts me up. "The lake is near. You need some fresh air."I walk with him, dropping my head in his shoulder. I feel a little surprised by my act, because I don't even know him.Or maybe I do.His body scent seems familiar."Don't try to think too much. When you apply pressure to remember a thing of your past, which was may
The morning air was dark with the smoke of burning goods.The old dry wood and countless layers of paint and varnish blazed with a fierce hungry light. Heat rose shimmering through the chill air; behind, the gargoyles and stone dragons on the castle walls seemed blurred, as if Moriah were seeing them through a veil of tears. Or as if the beasts were trembling, stirring . . ."An ill thing," Hadassah declared, though at least she had the sense to keep her voice low."Silence," said Moriah. "Remember where you are."They were heading to the Garden.Hundreds had come to the battle gates to bear witness to the burning of the Battle of Blood. The smell in the air was ugly. Even for soldiers, it was hard not to feel uneasy at such an affront to the gods most had worshiped all their lives.Moriah was thinking about his ancestors. They had overturn