Through the Old Fence_Mike didn't come home last night_Christopher’s Tale_The Masks We Wear
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Through the Old Fence
Marlow froze. "No, no, no, no, no," she muttered, shaking her head."Marly? Did you hear what I said?" She didn't turn around. If her fiancé saw her face, he would know something was wrong. "I don't feel so good, Thomas. I think I'm gonna go for a walk," Marlow said quickly. Thomas tried to grab her arm. "Alone," she clarified, still not looking at him. She fast-walked onto the street, heading toward the neighborhood park. Thomas put his hands over his head in distress as he watchwww.onedoor.cced her turn the corner and leave his sight. What had he done wrong? All he had suggested was how lovely of a garden...
Mike didn't come home last night
“Mike didn’t come home last night.”I gaze at Mia, her lip trembling as the words escape in a jerky sob, and try to find the right platitudes to make her feel better. He loves you. He wouldn’t cheat on you. He probably just needs a bit of alone time. I know I should feel sympathy but I can’t help thinking, I told you so.The first time I met him, I knew Mike Dalton was bad news. Tall and dark with just the right amount of designer stubble and eyes that invited you to bed the moment you looked at him, he smouldered raw sexuality. He wouldn’t be faithful to Mia – poor, sweet, innocent Mia – or to ...
Christopher’s Tale
I found this boy famished on the side of the road, with dirt smudges across his face. The boy looked like he was thirteen or maybe fifteen years of age.— He didn’t speak much. We rode the lonesome road and let the asphalt take its time. Fourteen minutes had passed. ‘Riley’ the boy stared ahead. ‘Is that your name?’ I asked with my deep voice.— He didn’t answer. I presumed Riley was the boy’s name. ‘John’ I replied. There was a glimpse from the boy, but his look soon returned to the road as he noticed me looking back. We passed the fields that had once burned, a story I’d rather forget. Blazing...
The Masks We Wear
The strongest deceptions are based on truth. Even so, it was remarkable just how flexible the human mind is. It was surprisingly easy to make someone believe in the supernatural. It wasn’t a problem for me to conjure an imaginary spider big enough to face off against a car, and it was even easier to make people scared of it. I only had to show what they were most likely to believe in, and these two men, it would seem, were slightly arachnophobic. I watched the unfolding scene from a perch on the base of a fire escape. I didn’t want to get physically involved this time. It was a dark section o...