fiction
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Little Black Book
It was 1946, not long after the war we were women inspired to be more, me and my sisters I mean. There was Priscilla, Melissa and myself Juliet, with Priscilla being the oldest and me in the middle. Our parents were hero’s of the war, my father being a war veteran and my mother as a medical nurse and our trust goes beyond words, which is why me and my 2 sisters have decided to travel the world together without our parents supervision of course. It was the perfect time for liberation, independence, ambition, interaction, being a female with all the courage in the world, we were going to change the world. My interest in journalism had got me through the war and all I wanted was a great story to tell as I would progressively be the first female journalist to travel and exceed limitations, opportunities were up for grabs and nothing at this point was going to get in the way. However things didn’t turn out the way I imagined, in a matter of fact it could have been a journey worth writing.
Miqat ChowdhuryPublished 3 years ago in CriminalLittle Black Book
It was 1946, not long after the war we were women inspired to be more, me and my sisters I mean. There was Priscilla, Melissa and myself Juliet, with Priscilla being the oldest and me in the middle. Our parents were hero’s of the war, my father being a war veteran and my mother as a medical nurse and our trust goes beyond words, which is why me and my 2 sisters have decided to travel the world together without our parents supervision of course. It was the perfect time for liberation, independence, ambition, interaction, being a female with all the courage in the world, we were going to change the world. My interest in journalism had got me through the war and all I wanted was a great story to tell as I would progressively be the first female journalist to travel and exceed limitations, opportunities were up for grabs and nothing at this point was going to get in the way. However things didn’t turn out the way I imagined, in a matter of fact it could have been a journey worth writing.
Miqat ChowdhuryPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Birthmark Murders
She was pretty uncomfortable with grocery shopping after 11:30PM. It was her preference, as opposed to going right after work from her home-based business. As she drove down the street towards her home in the cul-de-sac she could see the flashing of the street lamp post flickering violently. As she parked her car parallel to the mailbox, she slowly scanned the area around her. It was the way that the mist loomed so late in the evening that made her a bit uncomfortable, although it's common during the rainy season in Georgia. She quickly popped her trunk.
Jumoke EvansPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Aristocrat's body
The two thieves were ecstatic at the sight of the dead body, their jobs had already been done for them. There, in the middle of the alleyway, propped up against a crumbling wall, an aristocrat, glass-eyed and expired. He wore a white military uniform, it was supplemented with his own red in three places over his heart. His face was neutral, fine, eyes lazily open, mouth closed, he died either ready or utterly unaware. Bits of gold sparkled on the corpse, washing with glory the rubble strewn alleyway.
Hugh MacLennanPublished 3 years ago in CriminalGrandfather's Journal
Grandfather died on Tuesday. I’ve been told by those who knew him before I came along he was a dangerous man. He was in over his head, they said. He owed money. He was a drunk, addicted to whiskey and the way it made his head buzz and his throat burn.
Alexa DavisPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Little Leather Book
Cameron St. Patrick was like no other girl. She was born during the civil rights turbulence of the '60s. The hatred that Cameron witnessed as a child in her mind was commonplace. She remembered hearing stories of how blacks were under attack by whites, jews, and pretty much everyone. When Cameron witnessed violence in her neighborhood, it had no apparent effect on her as she lived a pretty sheltered life. It was just normal behavior on the dead-end street that Cameron grew up.
PATRICE BISHOP YOUNGPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Adventures of April
Publishing my first book was supposed to be a memorable moment and an attempt to truly leave my mark in this lifetime. As a retired party girl, who’s not always made the best choices in life, I decided to share my experiences with the world. I would write about all my screw ups and what I learned from them in my own hilariously witty twist. Completely naïve to the process I googled How do I get published? Almost immediately I was bombarded with ads for sites offering free consultations. There was one company whose name really stood out to me.
April PhillipsPublished 3 years ago in CriminalShort on Love
"Banks Breaks Bank!" was the headline in the New York Times morning paper. The article stated, "Joshua Henry Banks, A man of many means started his first hedge fund at the age of 23. His company Banks and Banks grew to a market cap of more than 10 million over the course of 5 years and he ran his business in his 2nd floor loft on 42nd street in the middle of New York. Early this morning Banks and Banks claimed bankruptcy due to a large investment on a shorted stock that went in the opposite direction. It has been said that users on an online stock forum rallied the stock price up more than 100% causing Banks and Banks to sell at a much higher rate losing all of what it was worth."
Jade FergusonPublished 3 years ago in CriminalA Gift.
A Gift. Darren woke up and began a long, sighful yawn. Rubbing his eyes, he sighed once more. "Better get the day started, eh?" He said to Kitty, his black cat. Kitty
Zak HarperPublished 3 years ago in CriminalTaxicab Dreams
Out of breath and out of time, Billy froze under a bridge. It was warm for February. If he closed his eyes, it felt like a summer breeze was hitting him. Or was it panic? He peered out one side of the bridge, with a silenced thirty-eight in his right hand. I know he’s out there, he thought. Billy was more wired than tired, but at some point, rest was a must.
Tommy ComerPublished 3 years ago in CriminalIt’s a Good Story
I was born with two gifts: rotten luck and an addictive personality. When I was fifteen, my mom took me to the dog races. I put all ten of my dollars on a greyhound named Fast Albert. He won, and so did I. I’ll never forget the feeling of that crisp fifty dollar bill in my hand. It felt like a missing piece of my soul. That was the first time I ever made a bet.
Martian BradyPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Server's Tip
“Megan, table four. Let’s go,” Adam ordered in his typical, demanding tone. With her back to him, she rolled her eyes and walked away without saying a word.
Jerry ColatortiPublished 3 years ago in Criminal