Emily Searle
Bio
I write
Stories (3)
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There Were Four
The office felt different. There were still the old, dusty, metal file cabinets and the half-empty water cooler and the rusting air vents with the loud, clanging air conditioner. But everything came off in a brighter hue. Detective Jameson straightened his tie. It was new, if anyone cared to ask, though they wouldn’t. Ties weren’t important, but Jameson knew it was the small details that made him look the part.
By Emily Searle2 years ago in Criminal
Before She Could Speak
Before she could speak my sister could spell and the first word she spelled was ‘love,’ but that wasn’t why I killed her. I suppose I don’t know why I did it. I only know it wasn’t because she loved me. I’m a killer. I felt like one before I killed her and nothing changed afterward.
By Emily Searle3 years ago in Horror
