Writing
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The house on third street—chapter four: A new world
Max’s grip tightened, fingers trembling. “Emily is gone. Payton just—”
He swallowed. “—just vanished.”
His voice dropped, raw now.
“I am not losing you too.”
“Then come with me”
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The house on third street—chapter three: Closet terrors
Max skidded to a stop beside her just as she reached the doorway.
“Emily?” Felicity called, her voice pitching higher as she stepped inside. “Payton?”
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The house on third street—Chapter two: Forever inside
“Get in here!” he shouted. “No one lives here!”
They didn’t argue.
They rushed inside before any of them had time to question how big the house was.
The door slammed shut behind them.
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The House On Third Street— chapter 1: The Dog
The road was warmer than the sidewalk.
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December, Almost Gone
The year is ending
without asking if I’m ready.
It folds itself away
like a letter I never finished writing—
corners bent,
ink smudged with things I didn’t say out loud.
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George Orwell
He lived for 47 years and he still made two of the best political fiction books of all time.