Mystery
A Quandary in Quarantine
Chapter Seven Luce and I had gotten back to Elsewhere pretty late the night before, so I had done nothing but fall into my bed and immediately go to sleep when we finally got home. In the morning, when my alarm went off, I got ready quickly, opting for a quick messy bun in my hair, my tinted moisturizer and a rich colored lip gloss. Then, I headed to the library a bit early. I hoped that if I could poke around a bit before everyone else got there, it would shake that feeling I’d had the last time - that I was going to get caught doing something I should not be doing.
By Erin Lorandos2 days ago in Fiction
A Quandary in Quarantine
Chapter Six Watching the clock slowly tick closer to 4:00 pm made me feel like I was back in elementary school, eagerly awaiting the last bell of the day to ring. At 3:55, I gathered my things and powered down my computer. I stole a glance at Irene’s closed office door. An urge to go in overtook me, and I gave in, opening the door with my spare key. As I pushed open the door, a sudden wave of guilt passed over me. Don’t be silly, I chided myself. There was absolutely no reason I shouldn’t be in Irene’s office. Glancing over the surfaces of her desk and filing cabinet, I saw that little had been disturbed since the previous day. Again, that made sense - who else would have been in here? The police clearly had not deemed any of the papers strewn across her desk to be of interest in the case. But, as I looked them over, I saw that the genealogical research I had seen the other day was all still there. I glanced over my shoulder quickly before making the split second decision to take the papers. I needed to be able to cross reference them with the letter I had found, and I needed to do that in the privacy of my home, lest someone see what I was doing and think I was trying to cover something up. I quickly grabbed an unused manilla folder from the box on the top of Irene’s filling cabinet and hurriedly gathered the papers, jamming them in my tote bag.
By Erin Lorandos2 days ago in Fiction
What Easter Really Means
What Easter Really Means Easter is one of the most important holidays in Christianity, observed by millions of people around the world. It celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ, which Christians believe occurred three days after his crucifixion. This event is the cornerstone of the Christian faith, representing hope, renewal, and the promise of eternal life. For believers, Easter is a time to reflect on the significance of Jesus’ life, his sacrifice, and the victory over death that his resurrection represents.
By Marie381Uk 2 days ago in Fiction
Love letters
It started as something innocent, but it progressed over time. Always beautiful and sweet, though. It became part of my daily routine – every morning I’d check my mailbox, and there it would be: a love letter. The person who sent them remained nameless and seemed to deliver the letters themselves. The envelopes were blank. No stamp. No information about the sender.
By Minou J. Linde2 days ago in Fiction
Egg of the End
The excavation had been years in the making. Nestled deep within the sands of an isolated desert, the Temple of Aasha—the so-called “Womb of Eternity”—had long been a legend among archaeologists. Dr. Eleanor Voss and her team finally unearthed its secrets in the weeks leading up to Easter. At the heart of the temple lay the prize that would make history: an egg.
By V-Ink Stories3 days ago in Fiction
Candy Curse
Easter was always the busiest season for Mathias Grayson, the famed chocolatier of the quaint town of Willowridge. His confections were renowned—velvety truffles, delicate pralines, and his pièce de résistance: intricately molded chocolate Easter eggs filled with hidden surprises. People came from miles around to buy his creations, enchanted by their taste and beauty.
By V-Ink Stories3 days ago in Fiction
How Many Waves Reach the Shore in a Day
How Many Waves Reach the Shore in a Day I once wondered how many waves reach the shore in a single day. It wasn’t a scientific question. I wasn’t standing there with a notebook or a stopwatch. I was just watching the sea do what it has always done, arriving and leaving, arriving and leaving, without hesitation or memory. After a while the mind starts to wander, and it landed on that thought. How many times does this happen while we are busy elsewhere.
By Marie381Uk 3 days ago in Fiction
Before the Guns Went Silent
The winter of 1943 was the coldest Anna could remember. Snow covered the broken streets of her village like a white lie, hiding the scars left by bombs and boots. Every morning, she woke to the same sound—the distant thunder of guns reminding her that the war was still breathing, still hungry.
By moeez yousafzai4 days ago in Fiction
The Prophets of 2026
The Prophets of 2026 The world has always needed voices that look beyond the horizon. In different centuries and in different lands, Baba Vanga and Nostradamus became those voices. Both saw through the veil of time, each in their own language, each believing that the future was not fixed but waiting to be shaped by human choice. Their names are separated by five hundred years, yet their warnings for 2026 seem to echo one another as if history itself were repeating its lesson.
By Marie381Uk 4 days ago in Fiction
