Cliffhanger
The Graveyard Hotel
I ran my fingers over the envelope and along the edges of the black seal that secured the contents inside. There was no stamp and no return address. No such letter was found in my mailbox or even tucked in between the front screen door. The letter seemingly appeared out of nowhere on my kitchen table.
By Jasmine Aguilar2 months ago in Chapters
The Hoarder
Kendal was glad he'd got the barbed wire although it was a bastard to work with. Luckily, he had some thick leather gloves just for the purpose, picked up from a house sale in Barnsley after a particularly fraught encounter with an arms' dealer in 1976. He'd come across the house sale on the way home after a long debrief, the sign for it stuck to a lamp-post, a messy creation written on the back of an old cereal box which seemed oddly charming and parochial after the bloodiness of what he had just experienced. The craving for something pedestrian and domestic and normal drew him in. It had proved a levelling distraction, sorting through the things left behind by someone who'd had a pretty standard existence. Kendal had felt envious of the simplicity of a life lived represented in the items remaining and for sale to others, and it had grounded him on a day when that's what he needed.
By Rachel Deeming2 months ago in Chapters
The Hoarder
Michael had never considered himself a man without feeling, and seeing Kendal as he tried to collect his emotions touched something inside him. There was no doubt in Michael's mind that he was out of his depth. His gut was tightening and he struggled as to what to do. He felt like he should get up and put a consoling hand on the old man's shoulder or something decent and human, at least.
By Rachel Deeming3 months ago in Chapters
Firebug: Ch. 34 - Urgent Meeting
Rain pelted Nurse Flanagan's beat-up old Honda from all sides as it wound through the dark city streets. Roman knew the storm was his own doing, but he didn't have the presence of mind to stop it. He was too busy trying to organize the countless questions swirling around his head. Questions that the old bat hadn't bothered to answer in more than one syllable.
By Natalie Gray3 months ago in Chapters
Sarah
Not wearing a scarf the night before left Sarah’s hair disheveled, and this time she sweated profusely. A tear rolled down her face, which she violently wiped away. The covers that comforted her in the night were a vast annoyance now. She violently ripped those away, too. Her feet finally made it to the floor as she sat with her head in her hands, trying to control her breathing. She hated mornings these days. She sat up slowly without opening her eyes. Instead, she inhaled the fresh air coming from her bedroom window; she forgot to close it. She exhaled, this time opening her eyes. She fixed her gaze at the empty pillow beside her with a cold, vicious stare, as if it were an enemy she was about to murder. Her breathing picked up again to a pace she couldn’t control. She couldn’t hold it anymore. So she screamed out. Not into the pillow this time, not while in the shower with the bathroom door closed. She screamed out so that the world could hear. It was ugly; it wasn’t classy like the dingy t-shirt she wore to bed, but it was her, raw and unfiltered. She grabbed the sheets on “his side of the bed” with a full fist and whispered with a tear.
By Saba Author of a Philly Love Story3 months ago in Chapters
