Anisah Moss
Stories (2)
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Thin Ice
His deep, boisterous voice echoed throughout the room. His large, clenched fist thudded like a boom of thunder, rousing me from my conscious slumber. “His name is Joshua Webb,” Sergeant Miller declared, pointing towards the overhead projector. “He is 17 years old, Caucasian, with black hair and dark brown eyes. His parents claim that he went missing about 16 hours ago and that his last known location was the home of Walter and Anne Peterson, whose son, Adrian, was throwing a party for Winter break. We’ll provide more details as we get them. Sumner and Davis will be taking on this case. The rest of you may continue with what you were doing. Sumner and Davis, get on it,” Sarge demanded.
By Anisah Moss4 years ago in Fiction
The Attic
“I think I regret this move. If this is how summer is going to be, I might just have a heat stroke one of these days,” I complained to my wife, Leigh-Anne, who was unbuckling her seat belt from the passenger side. She chuckled, “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” Three months back, my wife and I decided that it would be good for us to move because we were bored in Minnesota and wanted a fresh start. She thought it would be a good idea to live in Nevada because there were many job opportunities at casinos, and with my background in Sales and Marketing, I would be a shoo-in. She found a nice, two-room rental house online for us to view. The landlord wanted to meet with us so we could take a look around — which leads us to the present time.
By Anisah Moss4 years ago in Fiction
