All posts tagged: Mystery

Pass Or Play – #DVersePoets #Prosery

When far away, an interrupted cry is not something you need concern yourself with. Catherine repeated her grandmother’s words softly enough that the room wouldn’t hear them. ‘Pah!’ Her father threw his cards on the coffee table. ‘You cheated!’ He jabbed a fat finger towards his wife. She shrugged and gathered his cards in again. Outside the cry echoed. ‘Catherine! You play the witch, God knows she already has all my money.’ Catherine nodded and slid from the widow seat. It doesn’t do to dwell on lost souls. Her grandmother had said that too. The cards were split and dealt. Two queens and a knave. A house leaking secrets. Another cry. Closer. Louder. ‘Pass or play?’ Catherine shook her head. ‘Pass,’ she whispered. Shadows gathered by the fireplace. She could ignore them, but the play would continue. ‘Pass,’ she whispered. But ghosts never listen. If you would like to join in the dVerse Poets Pub new link up ‘Prosery’ then click the badge above to visit their site. The challenge is to write a piece …

The Girl Across The Street

The girl on the other side of the door was short, squat, and wearing the sort of glasses that people compared to milk bottles. Through the spy hole she appeared harmless. She wore shiny black pumps, a green skirt, yellow blouse, and a knitted cardigan with tiny flowers dotted along the hem. ‘Hi there!’ She smiled with a lot of teeth when the door opened. Peering round the opening Eleanor wondered if it was natural for a mouth to open that wide or for someone to have that many teeth. When the girl said ‘hi’ her voice rose sharply, punctuating the word with a high pitched trill as her hands suddenly jerked forward, presenting the green potted thing for consideration. ‘What is it?’ Eleanor asked. She flicked a green leaf with one manicured nail and forced down a comment about the unsightly colour of the ceramic pot. ‘It’s lemon balm,’ trilled the girl. ‘I grow it in my garden. It’s really easy to keep, takes nearly no effort to make it grow.’ ‘And what do I …

Watertight

“You’ve checked the cargo right, the last thing we need is that thing going off when we’re halfway across the continent?” asked Pike for the fourth time in as many minutes. “It’s secure,” Maisie assured him, the steel soles of her boots clanging against the grated floor as she dropped down from the ladder and into the cockpit. “You worry too much, this deal is as watertight as they come.” Pike shrugged as she shed her jacket and dropped into the seat next to him, her grey t-shirt and black trousers matching his own, he did his best not to stare at the scar running from shoulder to little finger, or the plating around her elbow. “Yeah,” he said quietly, “that’s what we thought about the last deal as well.”

Search And Recover

“What do you think we’ll find down there,” Adam asked, wresting the protective skin over his shoulders as he bent down next to the only window on the plane.“Bodies,” scowled Eloise, glancing up from her computer. “If we’re lucky. Base wants subjects for studying. See how this thing started.”“You mean how the attack started?” said Adam, finally in the suit now. The thin, navy material left nothing to the imagination. Eloise swallowed and turned back to her screen.“We’re not sure if it was an attack yet.”“How else-““Honestly Adam! I’m not sure I want to know.”

Dirt beneath the Cobbles

  London did not make itself an easy city to love, Christina knew that better than most. She kept her eyes fixed to the cobbles underfoot and forced herself to ignore the flood of people crowded into the streets, their bodies pressing in on her as she picked her way past. The in-between ran across the bridges of London. It was the area where the nobility ventured out to gawk at the poor, worthless people who fell into the wrong side of London, and those same poor, worthless people lingered, hoping for scraps. Christina pulled the rim of her hat lower and shrugged past the small mobs of well dressed gentry, into the maze of narrow alleyways and filthy terraces beyond. Sidestepping the beggars who huddled in doorways she gripped onto her collar, hiding behind the discoloured leather. Here was where the unsavoury were kept out of sight, laws set out by men like Christina’s father, forbidding those ‘of less than pleasing appearance’ to step out into the main streets of London. Their presence was deemed too …