ANONYMOUS CONFESSION. I am a car thief. This photo shows just one of the cars I stole last night. I am not just an ordinary thief. I only steal for really interesting people who do extraordinary things with them. It is a big secret but I think it is time to get a few things off my chest. I can't keep this to myself anymore as it is getting dangerous for me. I know 'they' are making plans to get rid of me as I know too much, it's just a question of when.
I have an escape route. I...
The ghost girls kept appearing on the photographs. Even on the really old one of my grandfather.
I wasn't that concerned, it was bound to be an effect of those new pills from the doctor. The leaflet had a million and one side effects including hallucinations.
On my seventy first birthday all the family were round my house and I was just blowing out the candles on the three level chocolate cake when there was a pounding on the door.
Police.
They took me into the kitchen and closed the door. Sparing the rest of the family the embarasssment of...
In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley all the way back to England where he discovered that it had been a mistake, he was meant to be in France, 1945. Time travelling isn't as accurate as all that.
Perhaps he would ought to do something a bit different for a change. Go back home. See what changes have been made. Would it be recognisable?
Jack the Ripper decided to return Whitechapel. 1888. London.
Hello city, hello Amy's boyfriend way down there. Hello penny. Let's see if it's so, what I remember from 4th grade about what happens when you drop a penny off the Empire State. On this street we walked and I wanted to yell at people who cat called her and to ask them if they had mother's and shame them. Down by the sudsy Hudson River we laid out and looked at the buildings and talked about Kenya, about the merits of going away and trying to talk ourselves into a compulsion to stay. On that bench she cried at...
"Midnight on the roof.". That was all her note had said. He smiled to himself as he climbed the stairway up to the small rooftop. Sure he'd been a bit rough with her when he'd cornered her at the party but some girls like it that way. Well she obviously had otherwise she wouldn't have contacted him again. Panting a bit he arrived at the security door and pushed his way through. She was there waiting for him as he had hoped but he wasn't alone. "Have you met my big brothers Mark and Jamie" she said as she slipped...
Gene Answer was a cool cat. He worked at a machine shop in Las Vegas. After ten years, he was laid off. No pension, no unemployment.
He had to leave his house and move into some hot-bed hotel to save his money. After that, he started to get pissed off. Eating balogna sadwiches on white bread was not his style.
Gene went to the local 7-11 dressed up in a ski mask and demanded all of their money. The clerk asked him if he wanted change. Gene simply brought out his wallet and demanded change for a $20.
The clerk,...
PUNCH
Graham Pererson was a murderer. He killed people. Often.
Under the guise of a little old man he scoured the late evening streets for his victims. He carried a small bag and a walking stick.
He had a nicely worked out system which had, to date, never failed him.
And so tonight, April 1, he locked his door behind him and headed towards the suberbs.
They were starting to head home in groups of two and three from their nights of debauchery. He hated them. All of them.
A young woman seperated from her group and turned a corner....
He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet. "What happened?" we asked. He regained his breath, swallowed hard, and began. "Darryl was found on the beach. He's dead." he said. Everyone gasped. Only Delta was calm. She sat casually on her chair and said, "Well, he got what he deserved, then, didn't he?" Everyone looked at her in disbelief. "Delta! How could you say that! Darryl's dead!" Evelyn said, her hands flying up to her mouth. "And it's great! that snake of a man got exactly what he deserved." Delta said haughtily, standing up and...
I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.
I lived a short life. Just 42 years young; at the peak of my career as a well-renowned chef in New York City. Most people say it was an accident; the gunman ran into my restaurant, and randomly shot rounds into the kitchen and at the restaurant patrons.
As a dead person, unreliably, I can tell you this is not true. I say unreliably because no one will ever know that I am telling the truth here....
He exited the train at Buenos Aires. This place was so unfamiliar and so new. Nothing left for him to linger around for, just this new, foreign place, with everything ahead of him.
John's life was previously tragic; enough to leave a full apartment, to take one suitcase, buy a last-minute, super-expensive plane ticket, and leave St. Louis in the dust.
The sun was setting as he walked down the airplane stairs to the tarmac; no sense of time, or anything that was going on. John knew no one. John cared about no one. The tan faces and dark hair...