Karmic Weather_Murder at Harajuku Michi(道) Soba_A Nice House on a Napkin_The Trade of a Lifetime
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Karmic Weather
“It was me,” he said, shifting from foot to foot in attempt to look guilty. Karen sent him a glare fit for one who had caused several deaths, which made sense, since that was exactly what he’d claimed to have done.He had hoped that it wouldn’t come to this—that Karen would never know that the twister had resulted from the sins of someone under her own roof. He’d thought that likely; after all, he and Tristin weren’t the only people in town with “the gift.” But Karen had just happened to pass the shrine mere hours before the tornado, while Blake’s jeep, which, having no car of his own...
Murder at Harajuku Michi(道) Soba
Jun looked at Sayako and pointed into the dining room at the customer who had come to murder him. Sayako carried over a glass of cold water and placed it in front of him.“Welcome to Michi Soba Restaurant!” she said in the spirited up tone that she used with customers, and presented him a menu. Sure, the man looked a bit rough, but more like a construction worker than a murderer.This is what she was paid to do. Serve glasses of water to customers that walk in and take their food to them when it was ready. Two years out of high school, and she was keeping her eyes open for opportunities.Jun went...
A Nice House on a Napkin
“Listen. We need to talk to your sister about the house,” said Leon to Ash, his fiance. She had on flowery perfume potent enough that he could taste it, especially in the car. She was gorgeous, pretty, stunning, but he would forget that under stress. They were getting married in the spring, the best time to marry. Flowers,www.onedoor.cc rain, dresses. The venue was set, the cake picked out, tuxedos fitted. But they still needed a place to call home, a place to sleep at night, a place to prepare and eat Japanese food Leon couldn’t pronounce, a place for Ash to clean, and a place to have the kind of loud sex ...
The Trade of a Lifetime
A memo went around the trading floor. Finally, after threatening, after complaining, after squeezing in few added weeks to his already long vacation allowance, after working remotely two days a week, and after years of discussing his rich bucket list, Allan Buckley put in his retirement notice. Three months from now, he would be gone. “Don’t hesitate to call me if you need advice,” he’d told the colleagues that crowded him on the cramped trading desk. “But it would be a sign of weakness!”It was a long time in coming. At 64, Alec Buckley was the third oldest person in the firm. The next oldest ...