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Slow Poison - Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine Bonfire days were best. Crisp October evenings with elder sparks spitting and circling in the frosty air. Fires of brushwood; brush that had been cleared for the new library, a single storied, polyurethane sealed house of stiff, new spines. Familiar faces lit up, eyes shining in the blaze of branches, a full acre of ground cleared of undergrowth and blackberry bushes and later, of every available scrap of litter. ‘Keep the home fires burning.’ they sang. And once, on the cleared ground, just before the library came, a caravan had arrived, trailing cameramen and sound girls and they had all gathered to watch the puppet show and Jim Dale and to be on the telly, faces gleaming in the light of the fire.
By David Philip Ireland5 years ago in Criminal
Under A Mask
I finally gave in. I just had to bring in the vase to replace the drooping flowers. I had watched them in anticipation for more than a week as they painted quite a contrast to the fresh tulips I had seen for the past year since I started working as a grave keeper at St. Catherine’s cemetery. This grave with the porcelain vase was in the upper right corner of the courtyard, one of thousands. Every Monday I would see the young man bring in fresh tulips to put in the vase by the tombstone, always three, always white. Now he hadn’t come in over two weeks and while I hated to break into an intimate rhythm between two people, drooping flowers at a grave create quite a nagging sense of abandonment.
By Megan Thomas5 years ago in Criminal
Showdown on Car 50
The town of Willow Point was one of those small towns that were perpetually on the brink of collapse. It was established near the border of Utah and Colorado in 1852 and stood there until 1904. It was never the biggest town, nor the wealthiest. The people were there to live simple lives, away from both the gold rush and industry, while still keeping the idea of community alive. Population was small; only about 500 people lived in there at its peak in the 1860’s. As the years went on and the people refused to adapt it became increasingly obvious that all it would take was one unfortunate event to cement the town’s inevitable demise. I’ve always said that event happened on August 5th, 1883, with the disappearance of Sheriff James Greene.
By Michael Chamak5 years ago in Criminal
Slow Poison - Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight Cheltenham, December 25th Trim woke cold under the deep blue of the bedroom ceiling. His quilt lay crumpled on the carpeted floor. The steady tick of the Meyrowitz filtered through from the next room. The blue tones that dominated the bedroom gave his skin a death-like tan. He reached for the quilt and a Quaalude. Americans had such interesting pockets. The capsule brought him near to sleep, but the diary brought him back. He searched out another scribbled section, a faint pencilled scrawl, tiny words that held nightmares.
By David Philip Ireland5 years ago in Criminal
The Book of Blind Trust
The man patted the seat next to him, signaling for the stewardess. The young woman swallowed loudly as she sat beside him, straightening her skirt over her white stockings. Acrid smoke slipped from between his thin lips as he adjusted the briefcase on his knees.
By Katie McNeill5 years ago in Criminal
Life's a Game and We're All Gamblers
Dear Small Black Notebook, Life is the existence of anything that can reproduce such as human beings and animals. Speaking in regards to the human being aspect of life, life is the ability to experience reality by interacting with the environment and others authentically. Life is an individual being able to change their attitude when faced with difficult circumstances that cannot be changed. Most importantly, life is about giving something back to the world through self-expression and creativity. Yes, life might be a game and us humans may be considered the gamblers but it’s about how you play the cards that you were dealt at the time of birth. Throughout life we all go through phases – newborn, pre-teen, teenager, adult, and hopefully we get to see the elderly days. Through each phase that we go through, we are dealt a different set of cards to cope with each phase. You hear a lot of the time that life is what you make it, that is indeed true. What you put out into the universe expect that to be reciprocated back towards you. Meaning, if you put good out there in the world, you’ll reap the benefits of the fruits you sowed. However, if you put out bad energy, expect that negative energy to be reciprocated back towards you. Even with those that do good, bad things happens to everyone, it’s how you choose to let it affect you and how you move throughout life is what really matters. Life overall, is a beautiful thing that every human being dead or alive has been blessed to see. Life is the legacy you choose to leave behind.
By Anonymous R5 years ago in Criminal
Do what I say or die.
I wake up with something plastered to my face. I pull it off, the taut plastic label slowly ripping out my now out of control stubble. It hurts but so does everything. Light seeps through half closed blinds, an erratic stream making the surroundings just about visible, what time is it? I look at what I’ve just pulled off my face, it’s the back of a label from a cider bottle, high percentage so it seems. I pay no mind and sit up; my head feels like a mining excavation. The woman lying next to me looks out cold, I sit up and pull on my dirty pants from last night along with a puke-stained shirt.
By Oscar Aitchison5 years ago in Criminal
An Unfortunate Accident
Carlo Mcclintock walked into Jackie's office at the ungodly hour of 6 am on a Tuesday. Jackie Dupre liked to get an early start as most of his day would be spent out conducting business. A business that involved collecting money from those for whom he had done favors.
By Darryl Brooks5 years ago in Criminal
Losing My Life
It's raining lightly outside, my head rested against the cold glass of the bus window, eyes shut. The numbing vibration of the window rattles my skull. The text message tone of my mobile phone sings out, a few people throwing dirty looks my way at an unmuted device. The text is from a number absent from my phone contacts so of course I click into the chat, curiosity tingling in my fingertips.
By liv declerck5 years ago in Criminal
