Daring to be noticed for the first time in her life, she pushed back her chair and stood up. "*ahem* Ladies and gentlemen, i do believe an error has been made." she said. everyone looked in her direction, and she could feel her cheeks burning. Her english was soft, lilting, with a formal accent no one could place. "Mr. Devon was there on the night of December 13th." she said, growing louder so she could be heard by the entire courtroom. Even the judge was afraid to breathe. "The evidence presented suggests a robbery, does it not?" Celine said, nodding...
There was blood on my pillow. "Oh, snap." i said. so last night wasn't really a dream, then. i actually did it. oh, well, that changes things entirely, then, doesn't it? He's really... crap."i held it... i-i did it." i said to no one in particular. i looked at my palm. it was still wet and sticky with blood. Not my blood. Honestly, did you really... no. his blood. I turn over, and with a jolt, realize the knife is sitting on my bedside table. my stomach heaved. i swung my legs out of bed and grabbed the knife, shuddering...
"Grandpop's teeth didn't look like that."
"How do you know?"
"Because mom always said you got his teeth. Do your teeth look like that?"
"Maybe after they'd been in the ground for fifty years."
"Not even. Look at the length of them."
"No, teeth keep growing after you die."
"That's nails, dummy. And they have to be attached still. You think teeth keep growing if they're just loose like this?"
"Who can say?"
"You know who would know?"
"Yeah, but she can't exactly tell us, now can she?"
"Well, she'd know for sure."
"Grandma's probably the one who did it...
An old sepia photo can be a bullet. It can tear through the lineup of neurons, neatly lined up like socks on a bed. It can make you aware that you are your latest incarnation. That you have been here before.
A mother and her child. Doesn't that child look familiar? Who remembers his own birth? Especially when it was 70 years ago? Today I am 27. I have been 27 many times now, projecting myself a year into the future so that I could live as 27 for a year, then my past self projecting himself a year into...
This sludgy finger of water curling around the land. A mucky smile that hides whatever you slip inside of it. The lake never tells.
So I'm pleased you chose this place to meet, my dear. You have solved a riddle I've kept hidden behind my own smile. Come closer for a moment so I can see your face in the moon. Let's walk down to the water's edge and peer deep into eternity.
I didn't want to meet you tonight. My plan was as unsettled as a river. But you pinched it off into something definable, and I feel calmer...
Goodnight said the face jutting out of the wall. She reached up to touch it but it moulded itself back into the brick. The swirls on the carpet spun into ethereal balls of light and their laughter tinkled like wind chimes. Only there was no wind in this solemn place where the moon came and went and the stars burned black.
Her hair stuck fast to her sticky, hot brow and she knew that she was lost in this 'other' world. There was no fear just a calm acceptance as the life she had barely begun to live drained out...
There was blood on my pillow. I could smell it, I ripped the cover of the bed and ran to the bathroom, check to see If I had a bloody nose. No. check for any other sources of blood, there where none on me. I returned to my bed room confused and in thought. Where was I last night? whose blood is this?
Just Breath stay calm. I put on a shirt, ran down stairs to look for more clues. Sitting at my table was a man who wore a fedora and covered his mouth when he spoke "some party...
-The thought of having to tell you my life story for forensic reasons, is quite barbaric to me. Is there any other way you can learn what you need to know?
-No. Go ahead. We need a summary of your life in order to rule you out as part of this crime. If we don't have that chronology, we can't do that. It looks very much like you are a perpetrator but this longer timeline will give us context for the short term timeline. Go ahead.
-{Sighs} Okay. As you know, I was born In Mount Auburn, NY. I lived...
"I shot my butler, but I did not shoot the chauffeur" Mrs. Kensington said. "I don't know who could have done such a thing. That poor old man."
"The butler or the chauffeur," the detective asked.
Mrs. Kensington coughed with polite outrage.
"The chauffeur, of course," she said. "The butler can rot in a thousand hells as far as I'm concerned."
The detective flipped back a few pages in his notebook.
"You say the butler had been stealing from you," he asked, scratching his nose. "Did you have any proof?"
"Proof is in the pudding, as the maid would say."...
The city was empty. That was the only remarkable thing about it. Its streets weren't paved with gold, it's shops sold the usual junk, it had poor districts and upper class suburbs.
The interesting thing was, the streets were empty, the shops had no employees and no customers and it's housing housed nothing. No one was there.
Well... there was one person there, there must have been, or how else could I be telling you this right now? Huh? Didn't think of that did you?
oh... right... CCTV... yeah, good point... sorry.