Paul Westlake
Stories (20)
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Why Would I Charge Him?
WHY WOULD I CHARGE HIM? It certainly would appear that it was a very quiet evening, with nothing happening at all worth mentioning, some people may even say that it`s quite a boring night, but not to Police Constable Anthony Graham, as this was the very first time he was on a night shift and there was nothing in the least that could be boring about that as he was finally doing the job that he`d always dreamed of doing. Even though his boyhood dream had now taken him a particular street where even his newfound colleagues would be wary about driving through, let alone walk. But this mattered not to him, as he continued on his merry way, keen to integrate with all the members of the local community.
By Paul Westlakeabout a year ago in Fiction
PUSH AND SHOVE
PUSH AND SHOVE It just rang, and rang, and rang, much to Craig`s annoyance as all he wanted to do was eat his sandwich in peace. Eventually, though, he picks it up and looks at the screen and `Jayne` could be clearly seen. “Alright, alright, heard you the first ten times you phoned” he says through an exasperated sigh as dressed only in a T-Shirt and shorts, leaves the kitchen and his mobile on the table, and answers the front door.
By Paul Westlakeabout a year ago in Fiction
LOST AND FOUND
LOST AND FOUND A slit throat, a fractured skull, and strangulation. All within a space of three months, and leaving Detective Inspector Andrew London, even though believing it was the same person responsible, and working tirelessly throughout this time, he was still nowhere nearer into discovering the identity of the killer whilst now being harassed by his superiors, and publicly mocked by the media, he began searching for clues in the nearest whiskey bottle that he could find. “Can I join you gorgeous? Looks like you could use some cheering up.”
By Paul Westlake2 years ago in Criminal
I Wheelie Like You
I Wheelie Like You I think that I can honestly say, hand on heart, that was not only the strangest lunch that I`d ever had, but also, I will not be seeing her again. I mean, how is it, they`re never like what they say they are on their profiles.
By Paul Westlake2 years ago in Fiction
The Great Caped Caper
THE GREAT CAPED CAPER There wasn`t a single person, whether it be member of staff or customer, who was not fearing for their life right now, as they had no idea what Batman was going to do next as his finger remained perfectly poised and calm on the trigger of his shotgun in one hand, and the bag of cash in the other. Taking great pleasure in the suffering he`s causing, until he unexpectedly hears, `click` and feels cold metal against the back of his head.
By Paul Westlake3 years ago in Fiction
The Comeback
THE COMEBACK It was that time of night again. 19.00 hours, and its evening rounds, and there we all were, stood at the end of our beds in our night-rig of short sleeved white shirts with a sharp crease down each sleeve. Black trousers being held up with a belt which had a highly polished brass buckle and shiny shoes to match. Even if I do say so myself, I reckon this basic training seems to be agreeing with all of us as we were beginning to look like a fine body of men.
By Paul Westlake3 years ago in Fiction
Power
POWER It was quite unusual, especially as it was the middle of June and seeing how the entire previous week had been nothing but blue sky and sunshine, but this day wanted only black rain clouds and rain. Heavy rain at that which pelted down against the windows with such venom, that there were genuine concerns that some, or even all, of the panes of glass may even break under such ferocity. Not that any of this concerned Martha, she was not even given it a second thought in fact, every single pane of glass could shatter right now, and she would happily clear up every single piece of broken glass as she literally danced her way along the first-floor corridor of Crawford Manor as well, on the brief occasion, giving out a short burst of song.
By Paul Westlake3 years ago in Fiction
It`s Confession Time
It`s Confession Time Simon just continued to pace around and around the kitchen table, tutting, head in his hands, sighing despairingly as he looks down and sees Michelle sat there looking decidedly guilty as Simon goes to say something, he stops, still not really knowing what to say as he walks around the table at least twice more as he finally manages to compose himself.
By Paul Westlake3 years ago in Fiction
Doing The Right Thing
Doing The Right Thing There was certainly no denying, that they most definitely had the weather for it today as the sun took its rightful place directly in the center of a clear blue sky as Marion pulls up and applies the brakes and switches the engine off before looking up at the sky with a smile across her face before reaching into her glove compartment.
By Paul Westlake3 years ago in Fiction
