I took his measure, as was my practise.
A calm demeanour, but behind that, an absence. A void where emotion or perhaps empathy should have been.
I sat down opposite him.
“Hello Detective.” He grinned. A predator, used to being in control.
It was going to be a long night.
Bill is from Aberdeen, Scotland. Like his home city, he is trying to re-invent himself, but for both success has been somewhat limited so far.
A proper story requires three main components:
Beginning
Middle
End
All important to form a complete story, no matter the size.
If any of it is missing, it is called an unsettled plot.
I want to share a personal recollection:
I wrote.
They published.
You read.
A true finished story.
Preeti Singh is an Indian French Interpreter and Media Professional who is engaged in writing scripts. In her free time she loves to play sundry characters for television series. Find her on Twitter or her website.
The chief of detectives saw one of his precinct’s best undercover cops with the lower part of his face nearly covered with blood.
“What happened to you, Morrissey?”
“I was playing dead for a sting operation, Captain, and then my nose got caught in the zipper of a body bag.”
John H. Dromey has had short fiction published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, Crimson Streets, Stupefying Stories Showcase, and elsewhere.
The morphine soothes. Death is fairly quick, ultimately painless. Your spirit ascends like an explosion playing out. Turns out that there is a God, and She’s pissed. A projector clacks, images flutter. And not even your slippery silver serpent’s tongue is going to talk your way out of this one.
Over the years Bob Thurber’s work has received a long list of awards and prizes. His most recent book is a collection of brief stories titled “Nothing But Trouble.” His first novel, “Paperboy: A Dysfunctional Novel,” was recently rereleased. Visit BobThurber.net.
Piles of mail and past due bills scattered all about
Empty boxes, notebooks, and bottles of pills all sprawled throughout
All part of her identity to claim and control
The constant source of structure she will never let go.
Worn and torn, it represents both her burdens and her strengths.
Debra was inspired to write this due to the many people who are diagnosed with Paranoia who walk around with a bag full of their belongings. Many people ridicule these people. It’s part of the stigma that others judge based on what they see, instead of the deeper reason for this need.
Pinched between sweaty fingers, the love note—a carefully crafted purple-inked questionnaire that would potentially determine the rest of their lives—was passed to the blonde in front of him. She firmly marked “No.”
“Okay,” he sighed, erasing the dark X of rejection. “Well, would you pass this to Julia?”
This is Alexandra’s eighth fifty-word story. She learned early on that love was a numbers game, but the good news is that you only need one.
The story of the week for January 30 to February 3 is…
Trapped by Mark Farley
We’ve come to expect nothing less than this kind of creativity and depth from Mark. Another great contribution!
Mum came to stay the day after her funeral. She was waving from the doorstep when I returned with the groceries. I carried her suitcase into the hall then set a place for her at the dining table, beside the ghost of my father.
Neither of them enjoyed the meal.
Mark Farley was raised in Zimbabwe where he survived two dog maulings, a swarm of killer bees, and being run over by a horse. His story Knight of the Rocks has been published by Old Words Home.
Last night, Dad came round to introduce us to his latest bride to be. “There’s life in the old dog yet,” he said.
She said nothing.
This must be his third engagement since Mum died, or his fourth including Carol.
“Who’s counting, anyway?” he asked with a grin.
I am.
David is remarkably immature about these things. He finds that writing about it does help a bit.
The lettuce is leggy and the bokchoi has bolted. While I’m scrambling after runaway cabbages, the slugs launch their offensive. Calling them swift may be overstatement, yet under the cover of a single night, they behead the French marigolds and disembowel the strawberries, leaving a trail of slime and destruction.
Melissa Fu grew up in Northern New Mexico and lives in Cambridge, UK. She finds the difference in the climates very confusing for gardening. Learn more about these and other messes at SpillingtheInk.com.