Mystery
A chance at a new beginning
Caroline woke up at 4 a.m., as was her habit. She made herself a cup of coffee and wandered around her home, making a mental checklist of everything that she should get done that day. Caroline knew that it was a list of ‘should,’ but that didn’t always mean it ‘would’ get done. She had been in a fog lately. Wondering what she was doing with her life, what her purpose was, and why she had no natural God-given talent.
By Rose Loren Geer-Robbins5 years ago in Fiction
Finally
“BREAKING NEWS, THIS JUST IN: SUSPICIOUS PACKAGE DISCOVERED IN MAIL TRUCK NEAR CITY CENTER. WE’VE RECEIVED WORD THAT THERE ARE POSSIBLE EXPLOSIVES WITHIN THE BROWN PAPER BOX. DRIVER IS STILL ON SITE AND YET TO BE EVACUATED. BOMB SQUAD IS ON THE WAY, STAY TUNED FOR MORE INFORMATION. THIS IS MAXINE WALKER REPORTING LIVE FOR CHANNEL 8 NEWS.” The television blares in the background.
By Bianca Serraty5 years ago in Fiction
A Little Birdie Told Me
"Something's waiting for you on your desk." "Er... thanks..." Something? That's helpful. What's a few more words for clarity's sake? Too much evidently. I hate this place. Every tongue is forked, every helping hand slick with blood from another thrown to the wolves.
By Francis Curt O'Neill5 years ago in Fiction
Slice of Humble Cake
"What's up, bro? Where you headed off to so fast, come here!" Erick demanded. The young boy froze up in fright from the sound of Eric's voice but couldn't find the courage to turn around and face him. "Little man, you deaf? I said, come here! Don't make me have to call you again", Eric threatened. Eric was accompanied by two of his friends, who took delight in the young student's apprehension. "Look at him; he's about to wet his pants," one of Eric's friends teased. "Just turn around, kid," the other friend advised.
By Sean Hunter5 years ago in Fiction
Terror always tiptoes around
It all started the day Claudia finished her wolf rug. It was a beautiful little rug, just the right size to put on the floor in front of her television set. Start to finish the project had taken her a bit over two months to complete because she had never before done latchhook. It took awhile to master the correct way to hold the hook and to grab the yarn and pull it through the mesh without shredding the yarn. It was a good thing she had purchased extra yarn. But once she got the hang of it, it was fun to watch the image come to life. The completed rug had two wolves on it, one of which was baying at the moon.
By Linda C Smith5 years ago in Fiction
Running Against Time
The windshield wipers screeched at every pass and she was nearly blinded by the glare of the stop lights that reflected off of the wet road. She glanced briefly at the dash. 10 minutes was all she had. She looked at the tightly bundled brown paper box on the passenger seat. A light sweat broke out all over her body as her heart began to thunder in beat with the rain pounding on her car. Her shoulders and legs tensed as her hands gripped the wheel. Damn the red lights.
By Lauren Lovan5 years ago in Fiction
Anxiety
Henry preferred tea in the mornings. Most would think him a coffee drinker like any other person in his profession, needing the caffeine to rouse him properly. But, Henry preferred a nice cup of black tea, plain, without any cream or sugar, as he read the morning newspaper.
By Kayla Crowell5 years ago in Fiction
Brown Paper Packages
Chuck Babcock was not a popular guy. In high school he had been bullied and avoided by practically everyone. He had one friend, Louis Green, but Louis’s family had moved away when they were sophomores. Chuck had some skills though. He was a member of a group of young men who had come to occupy a kind of clichéd niche in modern America. He was now twenty-one and still lived with his mom. His domain was the garage and the basement. The garage was full of tools of all types and the basement was filled with computers and gaming equipment. Chuck’s dad died when he was ten. His mom, Ginny, had given up on Chuck and let him exist in his own domains. For a while she had tried to stay connected with him emotionally by being a ‘nice’ mom, cooking the things he liked to eat, and making sure he had the tools and computer gear he craved, a kind of retail bribery. But Chuck became more and more truculent and sometimes Ginny was scared he would hurt her physically.
By Nancy Brisson5 years ago in Fiction
Before I wake
Am I saying this right?' Her forehead creased as she rubbed her right temple above the dense plastic of her transition glasses. The thick dark brown curls growing in again after she had cut it for the third time this month. She pushed back the teal braids she had gotten two weeks ago. 'They're loose,' she thought as she caught the braid that dangled in front of her lenses. 'Was there something missing?' She wrinkled her nose. The silver stud of her right nose ring tightened against her smoked caramel skin as it was tugged inward. She glanced down at the half-finished entry on a loose piece of lined paper; 'No date...no name; no future,' she sighed exasperated.
By Elaine Barnes 5 years ago in Fiction
The Brown Paper Box
I saw her every Tuesday. I watched her shuffle into my diner exactly at noon, her cool grey, short hair curled in place, same blue argyle knitted sweater. Her orthopedic, bright white sneakers squeaking in every other step. She sat in the same booth, against the east side wall windows, overlooking the prairie. I always gave her a water and cup of black coffee. And I always saw the box.
By Macy Rains5 years ago in Fiction
