Encounter On A Train_Murder! Madness!_The Eyes of Ignorance_The Fisherman and the Faerie
Catalog Guide:
Encounter On A Train
Charles sat by himself in the train compartment, seething with rage for the man who had run off with his wife. It was only five o’clock in the morning and the trip from Omaha, Illinois to the bustling city of Chicago would take about nine and a half hours–more time to marinate in the hatred that had consumed him these past two weeks.Charles’ former wife, Lisa, had run off with her old college boyfriend to Chicago, obliterating the life she and Charles had tried so hard to forge during these past five years of marriage. Now that she had left him, Charles felt he no longer possessed a reason to ...
Murderwww.onedoor.cc! Madness!
I still remember that case, as clear as my heart; it was my best one after all.GREETINGS! I’m Paul Harris, a former detective and now, a writer. I know, I know what’re saying: but Paul you label every case as your best.I KNOW! But trust me this … is the absolute pinnacle. Let’s start from the beginning.***1947、 I was still a young detective owning a staggering 43 cases solved to my respected name. The most handsome department about me, excluding my looks, was my case solving streak. 43 cases given to me, 43 solved; unsolved: none.I thought I could solve anything by that point when I found a bl...
The Eyes of Ignorance
Past a field of Lollypocks, through a barren-leaf forest, under a festering mother tree, and between the red gates. A short trip.Our world and the veil was rife with all sorts of creatures, a malignant sprite to your left, a whispering fae to your right, an ugly abomination throughout, there was no escaping the interactions that would be made but I could do my best to ignore them, pretend that I was like any other human-ling, blind to their existence. When the man behind the wall told me I could rid myself of this vision, that I could be like other humans, I jumped at his proposal. I took his...
The Fisherman and the Faerie
As the wind blew sand across the fire, the coins embroidering her skirt gave a chime. She tightened her shawl and sat cross legged on her worn woven rug. A small group of people sat around her, wrapped in thick blankets. Some were familiar faces, locals from the nearby village, while others were strangers, passing through on their travels. As the audience settled, the gypsy storyteller began to weave her tale."A long time ago, when the world was young, there was a fisherman who lived in a small village by the sea. This fisherman was a kind and honest man who often shared his catch with the vil...