Mystery
Tightly Wrapped.
It all started on Wednesday the 21st of July 2021, I woke that morning at 6am. It was a chilly 14 degrees in Cairns and I had left my ceiling fan on so it felt more like it was only 9 degrees. I like to wake with a minimum of 22 degrees and hope it reaches at least 32 degrees by lunch time. I have now lived here for 13 years and love the place.
By Andrew James McNicol5 years ago in Fiction
The Inspector of Dead Letters
David had been handling a strangely high amount of suspicious looking brown paper packages lately. It was customary for a mail-man to receive one or two, but in the past fortnight the sheer velocity of suspicious brown parcels placing into unsuspecting mailboxes had David furrowing his brow in confusion.
By Rachel M.J5 years ago in Fiction
Gone
Annabelle was up at dawn, as usual, even though she didn’t have anywhere to be, or anything to do. She drank her coffee as she stood in the small kitchen of the cabin she had rented for a week. She stared out of the window over the sink into the deep woods. Most of the trees had dropped their brown leaves, but some still clung stubbornly onto forlorn limbs.
By Mary Medlock5 years ago in Fiction
The Waverly Manor Incident
Not looking up from her computer screen, Shelia asked, “You’re all aware of why I have gathered you here?” Three of the four people seated in front, the person seated next to her and the one standing beside her, all nodded. The fourth, Mrs. Watson, did not. She instead looked blankly ahead. An octogenarian widower from 12B, Mrs. Watson did not know where she was or why she was here. However, she knew it would come to her in time, so she settled back and held her tongue.
By Dr Oolong Seemingly5 years ago in Fiction
A Package for Mr. Cunningham
“Sign here for the package please, Mr. Cunningham.” The mailman said nonchalant. “Yes sir,” Charlie replied, not revealing his nervousness of having received such a package. It had no return label, and it was certified mail. As he closed the door to his small one bedroom apartment, his mind began to reel at the ideas of what the package could be for. He had paid his bills on time, paid all his taxes. He didn’t need an attorney for anything that he could think of, and he had already done his jury duty recently for a small local case of theft. He put the package down on his small four-seater dining table and took a seat for himself.
By Andrew Clark5 years ago in Fiction
Anticipation
It was 3:33 Friday As it always was when I checked my phone. I don’t know why. I’d finished school for the term and was walking on my way to find my father’s car among the corduroy of parent’s cars along the street where parents were allowed to park.
By Sergei Nester5 years ago in Fiction
