I write and such

The approaching party consisted of a fine young lady, dressed in a plaid pantsuit. With long golden curls flowing down the side of her face, her figure resembles that of an hourglass. Her complexion was fair and her stride graceful. She must be their guide, for she had an almost otherworldly luminescence to her. In our experience, we could recognize such people for they stood out amongst the crowd's of more ordinary people and created a wake as the strode threw the world. You see I myself was a watcher of sorts. This particular young lady and I had met several times in our dealings with Irving's, though in this particular instance I dare not reveal myself. So simply allow me to regale you with the story that is about to unfold. Flow was her name, her companions Tony and Scott were strange young men indeed. For they were simply following a young lady to her destination, she had invited them as a matter of course. Though unbeknownst to them they had been summoned. Just as t...

The waves of wind swirling around just outside the door, the gusts bringing a cold chill. The cold penetrating down to the bone of the handsome black alley cat, whose green eyes glistened with joy at the sound of approaching footsteps. He'd heard them before these steps of fools, or didn't you know? For he had watched. this particular door of splintering wood opens and closes thousands of times. The brass hinges were always well oiled and it was the last of it's kind. A door that had withstood the ages. The cat knew that there were doors very similar to this one around the world, yet our fury friend was one of the only creatures who knew the true nature of this particular door. As uninspiring as it may seem today, it had once been warm mahogany freshly painted and opening to a field of poppy flowers. It had stood here for so long that our feline company had forgotten what it was like on the other side. He had been a watcher of sorts you see, during his first decade of ...