I hated seeing the shirt on the washing line in front of the Harrison's home. Didn't anyone tell them about the murder? Donny Cartwright had a shirt just like that one when he was found in the front garden of that house six years back. Unsolved.
I used to work for the Cartwrights, they sold up and moved after the tragedy. Heard that Mrs C died of a broken heart. Donny her youngest still lived at home, a momma's boy. Heart of gold. Slow. Wouldn't hurt a fly.
Such a shame what happened to him. If he hadn't been looking...
"What is this?" I ask, my voice becoming more and more hysterical with every word I say.
"It's your life." Jordan says. My life? My life is printed in front of me. It's not possible! I know what my life'll be like. I like to swim, I'll be a swimmer. But this book says otherwise.
"The Dramatic and Unfortunate Life of Mary Sue Crawson." I read out loud. "My life is supposed to be perfect. This story says I'll be a representative of a rebellion. I'll lead the world to destroy the government. I'll... I'll... get shot." This can't happen!...
I was nothing like his mother. Didn't look like her, act like her yet he told his friends we had to split up because I was like her. WTF. He told me that he no longer fancied me so why say I was like his mom.
I'd known him for over a year, we'd split up and got back countless times. I imagined that this time it would be like the others. He split up then pretended it was the drink. Although this time I decided I wasn't going to accept his apologies any more. This was final.
Jim called...
"Jesus Christ! Where am I now?"
As Martin gazed into the vast ocean in front of him, the broken teleporter still beeping in his left hand, he realized, that getting home might have just become impossible.
He tramped down an empty highway for hours, without meeting a single car, until he reached a gas station. Inside, there was no one. He went around the cash register, took out some change and dialed his brothers number from a pay phone next to the candy isle. It rang. "Come on, pick up." Nothing. He let it ring for a couple of minutes...
I step back and look. It seems complete.
Ms. Johnson comes over and looks at it. She barely glances before saying, "Wonderful, wonderful. Fantastic job." She's forgotten my name again. I doubt she'll ever remember.
I leave it on an easel and walk out of the classroom. No one looks back at me. No one calls my name or asks me to meet them at their lockers. I keep walking. Soon I am beyond the reach of our cloistered middle school existence into worlds beyond. High schoolers pass by. None of them look at me either. They have their own...
Sleep and you may dream. Remain and you will surely regret the decisions you make in the night. Intermittent car horns and the smell of grease emanated from the street beneath the apartment. A long slow drag on a cigarette. He had his eye on a man across the street. That man was the source of his pain, of his agony, of his obsession. That man, was his philosophical antithesis. Both he and that man could not exist in the same world. He put out his cigarette, tore off the end and tossed it over the balcony edge. He walked...
The idea that bad luck happens when a black cat crosses your path is completely ridiculous. Maybe if the creature trips you up while you walk, but certainly not in any superstitious way. There are no gods or demons that control our destiny, and carrying a packet of salt to throw over your shoulder as a ward against bad luck is absurd.
Yes, yes, that kitten is adorable. No, I don't want to pet her.
However, didn't we pass a trashcan back there? I did take too many salt packets for my fries. I'll just toss out the extras.
"SUFFRAGETTE!" I looked around quickly. Nope. Nobody heard me. I wanted the throne but I was 'just a girl' and there were certain people in certain high places that thought that wasn't becoming a young lady.
The bishop was an ass.
Actually, the bishop was approaching *on* an ass. Perfect. With him out of the way nothing much would stop me. I sat in the branch over the path he was sure to follow, waiting for my chance. As he rode under the tree I dropped, garrote in my hands. I quickly looped the twine around his neck and tightened...
The sepia girl smiled at me as I tucked her photograph back into my wallet.
I'd found it several years ago, inside a book in a box on a table at a garage sale. I hadn't ended up buying anything from the sale, but I'd taken the photo. I suppose you could say it was stealing, but I've never thought about it that way.
She seemed lonely. I was just taking her from a life spent between pages on the Ottoman Empire, with me. I travel a lot, and a part of me wanted her to see the world.
I...
I shot my butler. Bastard had it coming to him. He insulted me at every turn, never cleaned any dishes, put his feet up as I hoovered the floors. He never did anything for me.
I could have just fired him - that seems like it would have been the rational thing to do. But then he had the guts to insult my mother in front of me.
Nobody insults my mother.
It was a nice sunny day. I was having a picnic with my lovely mistress, out in the woods. We found a nice little clearing where we could...