fiction
Mystery, crime, murder, unsolved cases. Contribute your own tales of crime to Criminal.
Maybe
Casual Friday evening. Casual Tinder hook-up. Online dating has really given spontaneity the opportunity to shine. So, this guy and this girl decided that they should see each other after no more than 40 minutes of joking around and making connections. He was supposed to leave the morning after, so, what gives?
By Ioana Bernaz5 years ago in Criminal
Uncle Ron
Sad, I felt surprised and profoundly sad because I had just received notification Uncle Ron died yesterday in Albania. Why was he in that odd little country, followed by wondering what happened to him were the first thoughts that entered my head accompanied by my sadness. Ron was Dad's younger brother and my favorite uncle. He traveled a lot and always brought back neat stuff as presents for our family but I loved his stories even more than the gifts; well except for that $100 chip from the casino in Monte Carlo he gave me with his promise to take me there on my twenty first birthday to wager it. He had kept that promise and I hit a bet on number one at the roulette table for three thousand five hundred dollars.
By Ron Russell5 years ago in Criminal
Shelf Life
The fluorescence that poured from the shop windows coated a figure in its cold warmth as it inches closer toward the shop door. A bell that echoes of minimum wage alerts the lonely clerk behind a dingy fibreboard counter of his presence. A jolt of life journeys from the clerks leant arms on the counter and activates his autopilot greeting “gday mate how r ya?”
By Peter Nicolas5 years ago in Criminal
The Art of the Black Notebook
“You’ll need to do better than that, pretty little thing! Here, let me help you get started!” He tore a page from his little black notebook, the object of Alice's fantasy and desire and threw it in her general direction, her a crumpled pile on the wet, sodden asphalt of the dockyard. She leapt at the scrunched-up piece of paper as if it was gold dust, jumping up like a cat jumping for that ball of yarn. She ripped it open and shone the page up to the dim flickering light of the dockyard lights. None of it made sense- a pyramid here, an oval there, rectangles and a scrambled array of shapes and unrecognisable characters. What did it all mean? She lay there, defeated as his laughter rang through her head on repeat.
By Yannie HY Leung5 years ago in Criminal
On the right path
Crisp cool air stabbed into her lungs with every inhale, scratching her throat along the way, but she loved it. It wasn’t often that the heat and humidity of southern Florida gave way to cooler temps. Most days, a run like this feels like swimming through hot soup. This morning, she felt energized. Maybe today she’d improve her turtle-like pace.
By Pamela Hayford5 years ago in Criminal
Figures
Malcolm watched the man across from him with a detached sense of amusement. He was bored; any entertainment was welcome. This guy had raised enough ruckus to pull his attention away from his phone, basically sprinting into the subway car and using his momentum to make a hard left by grasping the bar at the door and swinging/sliding into the bench seat next to it. Whereupon he proceeded to strike up a cigarette while sitting directly beneath the very obvious no smoking sign.
By Joel Gray III5 years ago in Criminal
The Last Appointment of The Day
11 am. First appointment of the day. I shouldn’t laugh, but: “Relationship issues?” You’ve been married a month and your “issues” amount to her having hobbies and you having a narcissistic mother. Let me know when, after 13 years of biting your tongue and pulling the weight of two grow-ass adults, you’re on the shit side of a bitter divorce, operating a failing counselling service from a campervan, while a man who collects fingertips awaits delivery of the $15,000 you owe him thanks to a two of spades that should have been an ace.
By Rob Stephenson5 years ago in Criminal
Nicholas Blake’s Little, Black, Book
The shelter my suburban life carefully constructed kept me living in a safe world where bad things didn’t happen to good people unless from tragic accidents or standard errors. The walls were too paper-thin; if only the veil had been made of glass, I could have seen him coming before my perspective collided with a reality I never imagined could exist. All I know is, I'm not the villain, and he's not the hero; allow me a moment to offer you some valuable insight into this dark turn of events.
By Imani Hicks5 years ago in Criminal
Lisbon
I was hurriedly sent to Lisbon. Although I wasn’t fluent in Portuguese, it was similar enough to the other Latin-based languages I did speak that it wouldn’t be an issue. What concerned me was the lack of instructions I received regarding my assignment. I had faint photos of the OSS officers working in and around the city and scant details about them that were barely more than one might gather from striking up a conversation with a complete stranger. Since I had only just been activated, I doubted that any of them, nor any of the Germans would have much on me either. They probably didn’t even know what I looked like. That gave me a temporary advantage that likely couldn’t be utilized because I did not know what I was supposed to be doing in Portugal.
By Ron Kretschmer5 years ago in Criminal
