"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."...
Last time I saw Gloria Metcalf she was standing by the trees looking at the gravestone of her child.
I had a premonition something was going to happen but dismissed it.
Gloria disappeared moments later and I couldn't see any trace of her which I thought strange, normally I would see the back of her as she slowly walked down the path towards the gate.
So you can imagine the shock when I heard the evening news that day and realised that at the time I saw her, she had already been dead for about six hours. Suicide.
I decided...
He was no more than a barely-significant piece of a gargantuan puzzle. His ambitions, he was told, shouldn't have been as high as they were.
But, anyway, who did they think they were to tell him that?
Their opinions weren't going to stop him. Who cared if someone told him it wasn't possible, he knew he'd make it, as all obstacles can be overcome with the right amount of will.
He had but one obstacle, the Russian feline who lived mere meters away from him, and wanted nothing other than having his taste buds touch his insides. Oh he'd get...
The daring were punished. They had been aware of the risks their actions might have, both to themselves and their loved ones.
Golem's Bridge over the Tankard River was never meant to be tread on by anything but golden-shoed royal feet.
The daring waited until the guard at the gate had dozed off. The four of them climbed over the iron bars, hauling their cigar-shaped package behind them. They reached the middle of the bridge and unfurled, freeing the drab fabric and coils of rope.
They worked quickly, tying ropes to each other's wrists and ankles, threading it through the...
The world has changed. We have all become compeditors in someone else's game. 6 Minute Story has changed for the worse. One night, a woman jumped from 23 stories in New York. She landed safely in a dumpster full of pillows. We had coffee the next day, and she explained that she was suffering from a mild case of "I don't care". I found that a reasonable excude and bought her a cruller. She was happy, but pulled a gun out of her purse and shot hersself in the head. Damn. Now I have to get the tip. Good coffe,...
I have come to the conclusion that Jack suffers from a degenerative brain disorder. This may sound horrible coming from his own mother, but it's all I can think about these days. First off, he takes our only cow to the market and comes back with seeds when I specifically said we needed food. Sure, you can use the old fisherman analogy, but NOT when it involves an immediate need to fill our incredibly bare cupboards. I would have even accepted him butchering her for food. I really would have. But no, my son is a retard.
Magic beans? Really?...
The Moon would never be the same again. She'd never be able to look at it in the same way, never be able to go back.
Nothing would, actually. Nothing would go back to being the way it was. It had all changed, in ways she didn't fully understand - she never would understand, didn't expect to.
She'd presumed that some things in life were constant. That you could rely on them - tides, stars, earth, and her elder brother.
The tides were changing, sea levels rising. The stars had shifted without her noticing. The earth was meant to be...
Lola was no showgirl; but by looks you might think otherwise. Pin-straight, jet-black hair to her waist, a faux leather skirt, and a jeweled tanktop adorned her petite frame. She was rebellious; a 17-year-old "new kid in school," she was trying to make a good impression on the boys - she made more of an impression on her 7th period math teacher, Eric Harrison, a 29-year-old single man with math on his mind, and not much else until Lola showed up; front row seat, leather-like skirt wearing, flipping her hair like she had no cares about life. I watched from...
Her youth was long past gone, as emily stared out of her nursing home. Her distant family no longer visited, her friends had slowly drifted from her memories and living years as her mind and body waned towards the final chapter of her life.
Living was no longer an adventure, but a dull existence of being. Happiness and love existed only in her fading memory. She stared across the grey sky and saw a lone drifting green balloon floating slowly towards the endless sky. She felt a connection to the escaping balloon, she sighed and wished her last wish as...
This was only temporary.
She told herself this every morning when she woke up, and every night when she laid down. She had been telling herself this for 6 months now and she didn't really believe it anymore but she still said it. This is only temporary. Who was she kidding. It wasn't getting any better. She was surviving but only just. She had used up all her time at the shelters and really families with kids should get priority. She was surviving. She used to have a plan. Things she was going to do to get her out of...