Home Invasion
Posted on November 27, 2007
Filed Under The Stories | Leave a Comment
The patter of footsteps was soft enough to have been mistaken for any number of things that wouldn’t be considered foul play. Unfortunately for the bearer of said pittering and pattering feet, Amadeus Duck was not a homeowner who took sudden unexpected noises in his stride. He didn’t say, “it’s probably mice or a stray candlestand.” No Amadeus Duck cocked the hammer on his always-loaded shotgun and stepped onto the creaking floorboards of the first floor landing in his house and said, “This is your only warning to step out into the open with your hands in the air. Any further conversation will be conducted between my shotgun and any body parts of yours that happen to be within range. I suppose I would damage my home a little but I could always redecorate with the reward money I get for apprehending a dangerous criminal.”
My Gal Poison
Posted on November 26, 2007
Filed Under The Stories | 2 Comments
She was the type of girl men went to war for. Actually, calling her a girl was tantamount to giving the call to attack right there. She was and had been a woman for quite some time. Almost nobody failed to notice that she was fully grown and well filled out in all the right places. When she turned up at his desk he was tempted to look the other way almost immediately. In his experience, and he had enough to shame most police departments, women like her were poison. He wasn’t in the mood to die just yet. He had Africa to visit and
Gossip Chain
Posted on November 25, 2007
Filed Under The Stories | Leave a Comment
She was frowning in concentration. He loved it when she did that. He felt like kissing her. It was one of his favourite things to do – to try and make her frown. He didn’t often succeed. He made her laugh though and that should have been alright but theirs was not that kind of relationship. Not because he didn’t wish for it to be but because she was clueless (or pretended to be anyway) about the way he felt. So failing the appearance of any acknowledgement on her part that he fancied her, he strove to make her frown because that was his favourite face for her. Her eyebrows sort of knitted together and she squinted her eyes, as if she was trying to see something clearly that was at a great distance. And in a sense she was but the distance separating her from the thing she was trying to see spanned space and time. He had just recounted another one of his work stories and she was trying to figure it out.
-
Email Updates
-
Recommendations
-
Directories
BlogCatalog
Blog Flux
Blog Hub
Blogarama
Blog Directory