Mystery
Caught Up or Set Free
I dug all day until the night fell and by the time I finished I had a duffle bag filled with stuff I found including the bones. I know they were bones because I eventually found the skeleton head. I did not panic when I found it because at that point I was tired and already had my suspicions. I did not start out digging either, I was there kneading the soil around the barn I had just destroyed and burned, that’s a whole other story that I already told [The Farmhouse Web], when I stumbled across some hard objects. One thing led to another and here I am with the duffle bag of stuff and bones. I filled the hole I dug and completed the kneading. I was able to plant some unknown seeds that I had found in the barn prior to destruction. I hope they grow and prosper to cover and erase all trace of a barn that once stood.
By Christina DeFeo5 years ago in Fiction
Marigold Dream
Waking up to a cloudy day, mom yelling WAKE UP! Not the best Tuesday to wake up to. As I walked to the bathroom to get ready to start my day, I couldn’t shake off the strange dream, I had last night. I can say, I smelled the flowers on the field like in the dream while in the bathroom, as it felt so real. I knew no one would believe me. They would think, I had gone mad.
By Lisette Camacho-Alvarez5 years ago in Fiction
Three Deep Breaths
7892 Sylvester Street, 12:30 AM OR I’LL TELL THEM. That’s all the paper read when Sheldon received it three hours ago. No instructions. He could only assume he was supposed to just show up at the specified address, and subsequent specified time. He looked down at his watch. 12:22 AM. Eight minutes. He took three deep breaths and began tapping his foot on the floor of the bus, feeling himself grow impatient. He looked around and wished he was one of the other few people on the bus, probably all of them sitting here, without a care in the world.
By Rachel Aikema5 years ago in Fiction
Yellow, Yellow, Yellow. Top Story - August 2021.
The sun beat down hot and heavy in the sky, the shadows on the ground were slimming. He’d be here soon. Tree tops swayed in the breeze as the bees carried out their pollination. The meadow was small yet open. I ran my fingers through the thin blades of grass surrounding my feet, knees tucked under my chin.
By Miles Vaessen5 years ago in Fiction
Nightmare into Fantasy- Part 4
He jumped off the couch and began frantically searching his parents house. He desperately yelled out into the darkness, “MOM! DAD! TANYA! ANYBODY!” illuminating the house as he dashed from room to room. Everywhere he explored was deserted. The house was trashed. Picture frames were shattered, furniture was overturned, loose paper was everywhere as the contents of drawers were emptied onto the floor. The most unsettling aspect of the chaos was the blood.
By JJ Sandler5 years ago in Fiction
The Castro Diamonds, part 4
(...continued from The Castro Diamonds, part 3: Brown Paper Box) Later that night, Will sat at the small fold-down table in his trailer and stared at the aged pocket watch in front of him. He had discovered it in an old cardboard box wrapped in brown paper amongst his deceased mother’s few belongings that had been unceremoniously stored in the attic of the hangar barn he used for his crop-dusting business. Photocopies of five newspaper articles and three letters rested beside it. The originals had been found in the box as well, but Will had somewhat begrudgingly been compelled to hand them over to the FBI because they had references to an ongoing case they were building on. It was an unsolved case from the 1960’s holding his father and grandfather responsible for a diamond theft that had consequences of "national interest." After a whole lot of legal mumbo-jumbo extolled over the course of three hours in a cramped interview room at their Monterey field office, and knowing he had copies, his lawyer Stella advised him to capitulate, but it was clear she liked the idea less than he did. So, in exchange for a receipt and assurances of return, he handed over the sparse contents of the box. Except for the watch.
By Daniel McShane5 years ago in Fiction
Marigold and Honey
I guess I should start by saying that my mother, Liliana, was kind, loving, and sweet. Except...she wasn’t. I shouldn’t have said that. I should have left you with the thought that my mother was loving toward me and my sister, Honey. Oh to erase one’s words. Anyways, I’ll continue. My mother, being how she was, passed on Saturday, the tenth of June.
By Kristian Ham5 years ago in Fiction
Soap in the Grass
VOCAL Marigold Short Story Competition: Soap in the Grass I had been longing for Cape Cod since my last visit over eleven years ago. Growing up in New York, we would spend every summer camping at Nickerson Park, and riding our bicycles on the twenty-two mile path that cut through the greenery where sand was not so plentiful. October on the Cape was a comfy, charming, well-kept secret, or so said my cousin, Morgan, who moved there permanently after high school. With a sprawling house that bordered the bike path, staying with him would be the perfect, autumn long weekend.
By Lynn Henschel5 years ago in Fiction
The Marigold Killer
David Campbell was arrested and put on trial. Accused of being the Marigold Killer, Campbell entered a plea of “No Contest” with the death penalty hanging over his head. Had he plead not-guilty, he may have received a life sentence while the police investigated further. A no contest plea, however, allows the defendant to take the punishment without admitting to committing the crime. David Campbell insisted that he was not the Marigold Killer, but the jury just wasn’t buying it. The police had a substantial amount of mostly circumstantial evidence against him.
By Nicholas Kleinhenz5 years ago in Fiction
