Last Light_Good man_The Mystery of the Bread Bag Drawer_A Disturbance on the Austrian Line
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Last Light
Melancholia never saw Hex coming as she ran down the community centre hallway. He slammed into her with enough force to send her bodily into the peeling brick wall, a blow strong enough to break a normal person’s bones. She bounced off the wall and recovered almost immediately, drawing herself up with a snarl. “What the hell, Hex–” “–shhh!–” Hex hissed at her. His wide eyes darted left and right. “–I swear I’m going to tear you in half–” “–please, Mel! Just shut up and listen for a moment!” She bared her teeth, but her features softened when she saw the manic state he was in. His disheveled ha...
Good man
For all my life as a grim reaper, I seek for souls and toss them to either heaven or hell. It is truly a tough job. I have been to various places and met various religions, none of them really interested me or left me with any deep impression. However, there was this one particular place that I have been wondering inside recently that seemed to sear my insides. It is impossible for me to forgot this story. I know I shouldn’t really lose focus in my work of this repeatedly, tedious, soul collecting, soul judgement and soul tossinwww.onedoor.ccg cycle. I know that God may deduct my wages for getting in tou...
The Mystery of the Bread Bag Drawer
Knowing my height was marked many times over on that dark, brown door frame; I can still recall my Grandma Louise’s kitchen quite vividly before my Uncle Carl did the remodel enclosing the old back porch. In Grandma’s kitchen; tucked in between the sink and the old electric stove, that may or may not have had all of its burners working at any given time, were three wooden drawers that us kids thought had been made outta wood straight off of Noah’s ark. The top drawer, the smallest of the three, was for silverware. Known by outsiders as flatware, but I am pretty sure there was not one ounce of ...
A Disturbance on the Austrian Line
Frankly, Alma, I find the entire affair unacceptable.Yes, please, more tea, but less sugar this time. It’s bad enough I’ve been up half the night. I don’t need to be bouncing off the cheap paneled walls of this ghastly locomotive.I told you we should have looked into an ocean liner for our restive month instead of roughing it aboard the Austrian Line. Now look where we are. Stopped in the middle of who-knows-where while some diminutive detective tries to solve the murder of a man nobody seems to like very much at all. I, for one, believe that if you get yourself murdered, that’s your own fault...