Mystery
Her Days Were Numbered
What I won’t do to make him happy! My needy insecurity is getting old. I had a perfectly good, some would say “great!” career in Frankfurt. I was the first woman CEO at an up-and-coming retailer. My wage had soared to six figures, and I had the local buyers eating out of my fiscally tight-fisted hands. Why would anyone step away from such a promising future you ask? For love. Pure love. At least I love him.
By DeEtta Miller5 years ago in Fiction
The Barn
No one had been to the Livingston Farm since Old Lady Bell shot and killed her husband and his mistress as they engaged in their usual Tuesday afternoon delight in the farmhouse master bedroom. The affair had been ongoing every week for over a year when Old Lady Bell drove the 43 miles to town to sell her fresh eggs and cheese, and then perform her household errands, including shopping, banking, and visits to the library. She was usually gone for a few hours, giving the lovers ample time to talk, tryst, and kiss goodbye as the mistress tightened her fist around the three-hundred-dollar bills, the husband lovingly gifted her after each session.
By Bella Blue5 years ago in Fiction
The Rocking Horse
The barn was decrepit as could be, full of cobwebs and eery, darkened corners that compelled you to look away. The air was stale and hung without life; a cloak of negativity, of foreboding, laced its self delicately over the deserted shack. Saskia still stood peering round the stable door however, intrigued by her new discovery.
By Natalie Edwards 5 years ago in Fiction
Building anew
Vasir dragged his favourite stool next to the window and sat in silence. The storm outside intensified, and water lingered down the barn’s crimson wood, sneaking in through the cracks. He loved the smell of rain, the sound of droplets hitting the ground and the deafening roar of thunder. His fingers tapped his knees in a synchronised movement. He looked to his right at the painting on the wall from where his family smiled back at him. His dad behind his mum, holding her close to his chest. They looked so happy.
By Alexandru Nornguard5 years ago in Fiction
RBK
Water dripped on the floor as a tall dark man stood on the floor mat. Removing his hat, he walked up to the front counter. The officer behind the counter was busy behind the counter looking down at the desk. The man tapped his hand onto the counter to make his presence known. Without looking up he tells him to have a seat. The man rustled with his wet hat as took a seat in the main waiting room. He takes notice of the time as he waits patiently.
By Tony Nelson5 years ago in Fiction
Charlie's Web
Charlie’s Web: Part 1 Eight years of working homicide cases and this is the first time I found a body in a barn. There aren’t exactly a bunch of them in Police District 2 of the city of Denver. Sure, maybe twenty years ago, okay more like fifty, this area was nothing but farmland. Now, it’s filled with homes worth more than a half million dollars and more gourmet coffee shops than I care to imagine. This is where I grew up, my ‘hood. Except for this one, tiny little sliver of land that never joined the 21st century, I can tell you anything you want to know. So of course, someone had to find a body here.
By Josh Hirsch5 years ago in Fiction
Don't Tell
I was spending the night at Annie’s house. She lived in a big Victorian on the edge of town. It had a veranda and a lawn in front with a barn in the back. I lived with my mom and brother in a triple-decker by the school. There was no lawn and it was always noisy and cramped.
By Faye Hanson5 years ago in Fiction
A Hint of Lavender
It was the barn of my dreams. Vast and old, the scent of hay and horses lingered in the air. I loved to visit it when we were in Kansas seeing my grandfather. The man was an old hat at farming, but none of his five children or grandchildren ever picked it up. But that didn't stop us from visiting every summer to help him with the same harvest he’d tended to alone for decades, never complaining, always working.
By Nicole Deviney5 years ago in Fiction
A New Game of Chance
There it was, unexpectedly; big, vivid, red letters standing in stark contrast to the non-descript nut brown paper they were emblazoned across. SUSPISHUS. Alex and Jordan stopped mid-step; their conversation cut off midsentence. Alex’s grip on their bag of groceries tightening involuntarily. Neither of them could believe what they were seeing. Neither of them wanted to see it. Sitting unavoidably and confrontationally in front of their door was a Suspishus package. They were on a timer now and they both knew it. Six hours and counting.
By Clint Jones5 years ago in Fiction
The Woman From My Dreams. Top Story - July 2021.
Darkness asserted itself like a solid force gently pressing me into my bed. Autumn’s cool breath drifted in through the open window. Curtains danced somewhere near the window, filling the darkness with the whispering of their skirts. My eyelids grew heavier and slower with each blink. Nearby, the purring of my feline companion washed over my consciousness like a little living motor. There was a moment in which a waking thought conjured an important memory; then the waking thoughts were no more.
By Michael Sean5 years ago in Fiction
