Horror
The Sweetest Rose
It had rained every day for the past week. The old dusty cabin she had thought was going to be a rustic getaway was dark and leaking. It just figured her first vacation in two years would be a flop. She had planned for a breathtaking view and watching the leaves change in the Carolina Appalachian mountains drinking wine and catching up on some reading. Normally, the rain wouldn’t have bothered her, but the smell of the old wet wood and mildew was almost unbearable. She had decided tomorrow she would drive down to Asheville and stay at a nice bed and breakfast and enjoy the remaining three days of her vacation. She took her dirty dish to the sink and poured another glass of Merlot. She was not doing dishes tonight, she decided, she would do them before she left in the morning and do a little bit of tidying up before she left. She was much more interested in getting packed to leave tomorrow morning. She couldn’t believe she stayed here as long as she did. The company that referred her to this place was definitely going to get a piece of her mind about it.
By Sam Hudgins4 years ago in Fiction
Don't Chase the Bag
One word defines my life, compulsive. It’s the first word I can remember, and it’s the first one you should write in my obituary. It’s served me well. Despite the grit and grime, only I have remained. A vigilant servant of justice. Destined to be a detective. If I had any other choice, I probably would still be married. Have a good relationship with my children. Wishful thinking. The streets are my home and I prefer to keep a clean house.
By Blake A Swan4 years ago in Fiction
The Damn Box
“God damn…” Christopher Pitt groaned this well worn expression as he picked up his 107th box of the morning and placed it into his delivery truck. It wasn’t a very heavy box, but Chris didn’t have a very good back. Or a very good knee, or very good shoulder. It seems that when Chris hit the big 3-0 five years ago he started to play the real life version of the children’s game Operation. So many unexpected movements would bring about the annoyingly loud buzz and red light in the form of pain. And right now, his back just buzzed.
By Justan Romias 4 years ago in Fiction
The Perilous Package
I got another package in the mail today. I wasn’t expecting anything, but I do order a lot of things online so it wasn’t really that surprising. Sometimes I even got packages meant for neighbors, living in a large apartment complex with often obscured building and unit numbers. I checked my email, and seeing no alerts, picked up the package.
By Brian Gracey4 years ago in Fiction
A Strange Package
Jerome Sanderson had a problem with his mail service. Every few days a white mail truck would come barreling down Maudlin Avenue and screech to a stop outside his weather-beaten house. The mailman would then unceremoniously toss his packages all over the front lawn and speed away. It was an infuriating routine but after six successive complaints and two threats of legal action nothing had ever been done. So Jerome grit his teeth and bided his time until he could move into a new place, hopefully one with a better package delivery service.
By Sara Zaidi4 years ago in Fiction
The Long Haul
After 41 years of too much Wildhorse tobacco, too many what’s-her-names from where’s-that-towns, and never meeting a single person more loyal or honest than the Doberman Pinschers named Kallie he’d had over the years, Jerry Bell was pulling his Kenworth into the parking lot of the truck shop for the last time. “Retirement”, Jerry always used to say, “is just the last step before the grave”, yet here he was, living up to what he always swore he would not.
By Krista Jayne4 years ago in Fiction
How to Get Ahead in Business
There were many things about Thursday mornings that she did not like, but what bothered Laura the most about them was that they were not Friday afternoons. She knew how to handle those moments when the sunlight was still in the air and there was a good chance that she could slip away unnoticed by her nosy employers and sympathetic colleagues. But this was not a Friday. It was a Thursday, and she had to sit down and wait in a conference room as one of her many bosses explained what would be taking place in the next few weeks.
By Kendall Defoe 4 years ago in Fiction
Open You
This all started on a miserable day about two weeks ago. Heavy rain and cold winds: the kind of autumn weather that made you want to stay inside with something warm. It was early evening when someone, or something knocked on my door. No doorbell, just a series of heavy thuds that demanded an answer. I wasn't slow getting the door but whoever, or whatever knocked was already long gone by the time I opened it.
By Keegan Harness4 years ago in Fiction
