Mystery

Cracking the Case
Millicent MacMurphy had seen it all. She stood with her hands on her hips, staring at her friends indignantly. “Why would you do such a thing?” she demanded.
By Paula Shablo5 years ago in Fiction
The Lies We Tell
“Carl, any plans for today?” Monica peered over at him from her desk, gathering her peacoat from the office chair. Her long blond curls bounced around her shoulders as she pushed her arms through the sleeves and bent down to grab her purse.
By Alisia5 years ago in Fiction
The Enchanted Café
It was the end of the workday, I shut down my computer and rub my neck. I take a glance at my watch it was almost 9 pm. I stayed later to finish my report. It was a stressful day, with a lot of phone calls, endless meetings, and playing catch up on emails. I was tired and exhausted from today’s workload. I gather my belongings and head for the elevator.
By C C5 years ago in Fiction
A Bridge to Dreams
Phil was the sole proprietor and operator of Jo’s Diner. While Rene held a part-time job as a cook at Jo’s, Phil hardly ever noticed him. At first, Rene had been thrilled to secure the position. He was certain it would provide the vital experience he needed to springboard his career in the food service industry. His excitement had diminished considerably as time passed. Jo’s had failed to provide opportunities for his aspiring inner chef to shine.
By Brian Champion5 years ago in Fiction
Songbirds
Normally, I’d tune out the songbirds outside. For whatever reason, their tune seemed a bit strange today. Melancholy, I’d say. The weather, like yesterday, was bright and sunny - warm and comforting. I sat by the window as I sipped from my favorite lipstick-stained mug of coffee. Living in the countryside was never as simple or relaxing as they made it look on the television. This was my third cup of coffee and the sunshine was just showing itself. I had to tend to the pigs and chickens hours before I finally got to sit back down.
By RedemptionVA5 years ago in Fiction
The Cake
Moist, thick, rich and chocolatey, that's how you could describe the now homogeneous mixture sitting in the bowl on the kitchen counter.
By Kelly Maurica5 years ago in Fiction
A Slice Of Chocolate Cake Heaven
Call me eccentric if you like. Some may even call me weird. Whatever the case; I love chocolate cake. When I say I love chocolate cake, I mean I LOVE chocolate cake. Not any old chocolate cake. Not the mass-produced store-bought kind but cake created by a chef or a baker who actually cares about the ingredients and the end product. My idea of heaven is to sit at a table on a beautiful sunny day, not too hot, on a quiet street at an outdoor cafe frequented by pretty girls, at a table shaded by an umbrella with a perfect cup of coffee and a perfect slice of perfect chocolate cake.
By Michael Trigg5 years ago in Fiction
The Last Sighting of Mademoiselle Virginia
The moment that the chocolate cake was set down before her, she knew something was wrong. She could feel it in her very bones, like a deathly heat in her marrow slowly dispersing throughout the rest of her body. She didn’t want to know what was happening, but every instinct in her told her to turn her head. And she did.
By Lily Burkin5 years ago in Fiction
Best Served Warm
"Room 207. Noon." "Love, S." Ashley couldn't contain the flush in her face, or the smile broadening her lips, after reading the message on the thin cardstock.
By James Sprague5 years ago in Fiction
The Bainbridge Hills Welcome
The tinny scraping of ice against ice set Annabel's teeth into a grin. She enjoyed the manufactured sounds of happiness, they provided the perfect backdrop to the afternoon soiree she was presiding over, and people were almost done with their drinks.
By Adeleine Grubb5 years ago in Fiction
The Waiting Room
She scratched her index nail against her thumb nail impatiently. The beige walls staring at her the same way they always did, or had? She couldn't tell anymore. This was the worst part. The waiting. Nothing exciting every happened when she stared at these beige walls. To her left, four empty hard-plastic, navy blue chairs sat, the same as before. To her right, three empty chairs. Her nose twitched.
By Harrison Sissel 5 years ago in Fiction
The Good Friend
Sara had been having a really rough week, her husband had gone missing four days ago on Friday night. Sara told police that John had left the house like he had done every Friday night for the last few months, ever since he started that bowling league. He had not returned later that night like he usually did, exhausted by the frames he had played.
By Josh Jamieson5 years ago in Fiction