Cora_Lost andFound_Repentance for Your Sins_The Case of the Tree that Wasn’t and the Tree Surgeon
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Cora
Deep below the building on First and Main, sixteen stories of glassy, modern tech lab balanced above it, a strange chamber sat, untouched, full of the lights of the monitors monitoring nothing, with a cold stone floor and alarms on the door, reachable by climbing a set of steep cement stairs, and it almost was… waiting for someone? The chamber wasn’t empty, though. In the middle of the room, walled off by weird, black computers that looked like they belonged in a lab in the forties, two metal chairs were bolted to the floor. The chairs, placed back-to-back, had the unfortunate ...
Lost andFound
Lost and Found Suzanne Marsh The days following my Aunt Toni's funeral, were hectic for me. Aunt Toni was the family historian; in other words the junk collector of the Martin family. My Mom, Jenny hated going through family papers; she decided it would be easier for her to have me do it. Aunt Toni 's desk was one of the last things I went through. Mom, had dropped me at Aunt Toni's while she finished several errands. I opened the big bottom drawer, where her files were kept. I went through the folders, most contained receipts that were older than I am. The last folder labeled twins caught my ...
Repentance for Your Sins
The man stared at the crumpled sheets of yellowing paper with fiercely glinting eyes, the frown deepening upon his features. That damn bitch found a way to do it again--to make his life a living hell!It was bad enough she was retiring, and now, this. He was being laid off. Effective immediately. The quaint little bookstore on the corner of Fletcher's street was bankrupt. Its doors were closing, its employees terminated, and its manager was retiring.He flung the note aside, raking his fingers through his hair, he paced the tiled-floor in a fit of rage. A slew of nonsensical ramblings tumbled pa...
The Case of the Tree that Wasn’t and the Tree Surgeon
Timber!Tree ninja. Tree surgeon. The job title or description doesn’t matter. God gave me two hands and a heart to slaughter as many trees before I died.I stood beneath the towering oak tree, chainsaw in hand, and gazed up at its branches. Swaying in the morning breeze, casting dappled shadows on the ground below. But beneath their beauty lay a danger that cast a long shadow over time.It was no accident that I became a tree surgeon. A deep obligation I’ve known since childhood. When I was just three years old, my parents picnicked beneath a black oak tree in San Diego when a gust of wind knoc...