The man was dead. The inspector walked into the room and studied the confines of the room looking for any clues. He spied on the desk something that looked suspicious. He went to the desk and saw the bloodied letter opener. He suspected that this was the weapon that killed the man. He heard some whimpering coming from somewhere. He looked around the room and saw that there was a thin door that looked like the wall, and it opened out. He looked in there was a little girl tears running down her face. She said, "Killed. He hurt me."
About the Creator
Mark Graham
I am a person who really likes to read and write and to share what I learned with all my education. My page will mainly be book reviews and critiques of old and new books that I have read and will read. There will also be other bits, too.
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More stories from Mark Graham and writers in Fiction and other communities.
The Plants part 4
He continued to chop his way, and it was a fight for when he got loose from the pines the little plants and seedlings decided to get into the act and the man for some reason could not hurt the young plants and he saw the rope that was used to tug huge supplies around. He climbed the rope and began swinging back and forth to gain enough to swing to the door and out. One more big swing and jumped through the door and began running down the old road. Now he told everyone what was happening. Nobody believed.
By Mark Grahamabout a year ago in Fiction
The Devil Gets What He Wanted
“Hello Old Scratch. My name is Glabon. I assume you know why I am here?” “Of course, Glabon, as you no doubt know, I know many things, most in fact.” “Well, despite that I am required by my superiors to inform you of my intentions in any case.” “And, you always do what you are told don’t you my friend Glabon?” “Of course, and I am not your friend, nor are you anyone’s friend, but that matters not for purposes of this discussion.” “No need to hurl insults, it was only a figure of speech. I would suggest you lighten up, but I assume your superiors would find that objectionable, and my guess is you are not capable of it. Do you ever even smile Glabon? Or laugh? No, I presume not.” “Mr. Scratch I am not here for banter or games, I am here for your interview. As you know a select group has been commissioned to write your biography for the historical record.”
By Everyday Junglist5 days ago in Fiction
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments (2)
Hello again mark, thank you for writing this story for us. I really enjoyed it, I also shared it here: https://shopping-feedback.today/resources/raise-your-voice-thread-10-31-2024%3C/span%3E%3C/span%3E%3C/span%3E%3C/a%3E 🤗
This one had my heart racing. I loved the suspense. It would be interesting if this was a full story, the peculiar way that little girl spoke was very intriguing to me. This was perfect Mark, well done once again.