By Brett Matthew West
She sold her wares in town. However, I could not allow her to tarnish my good name. So, I quickly plotted her demise. Question remained how to carry out my elaborate scheme without drawing suspicion.
I imagined knowing this woman much better than I did. But, can a man ever figure out one of the species without looking like a fool?
History says it's not going to happen. Rumor told me this had occurred for quite a while. The whole scene nauseated me so its end must rapidly manifest.
We planned a quaint candlelight dinner at our favorite restaurant on Lake Gilman. There I would carry out my sinister intentions and rid myself of this distraction.
Peking duck, a chilled bottle of Chardonnay, and a little dose of arsenic. My plan went off without a hitch.
Then the bullet from her pimp's gun deeply entered my chest.
| Author Notes |
Two murders for the price of one.
Good rate these days would you not agree? Thanks debi777 for the use of your picture. It goes so nicely with my little story. |
By Brett Matthew West
I had been a Dick for more than twenty years and was tired of it. Recently, I had received a piece of mail that caught my fancy.
Every time the local Smucks could not find a missing person my phone rang. They knew I could. For the right amount of green any Joe Blow off the street could hire my services, as well.
Casually she strolled into my office, a briefcase in hand. She plopped it down on top of my dilapidated old wooden desk.
Quickly, I opened it. She told me how she did it, and why she waxed him, then said, "There's 500,000 reasons to bend your elbow." I knew she didn't want him found.
Without a word I stuffed the picture I had received in the mail into the card it came with and grabbed the loot.
The torch and I had a plane to catch.
(Word Count: 149)
| Author Notes |
Several slang terms are written into this:
Dick = Private Eye or Private Investigator fancy = attention green = money loot = cash Joe Blow = citizen waxed = murdered torch = a smoking hot woman or dame Smucks = Police Thanks Curly Girly for the use of your picture. |
By Brett Matthew West
He had always been a rebellious boy. Full of vim and vinegar. But, tonight he was going to show them all.
With his hoodie pulled up over his head, in what he considered his ultra-cool style, he would have his revenge.
He followed the news. Or what he heard on the streets.
At the local theater the latest popular Horror flick was debuting and the place would be packed. He would be ready.
Allowing the movie to begin playing, he pulled the fire alarm sending moviegoers scattering for the exit in a mad dash.
He was prepared, screaming out "Black Lives Matter!" with every round he fired from the weapon he held in his hand.
The morning's headlines told the story of another young Black male murdered by White Police Officers.
The body count - 7.
Welcome to the Modern world.
Where will it all end?
(Word Count: 146)
| Author Notes |
"Black Lives Matter" is a current rampantly spreading reaction to several young Black males who have recently been killed by White Police Officers.
The Black Community seems to want to place all the blame on the White Police Officers. However, that is not necessarily always the case. Most of these incidents have been instigated by the young Black male so responsibility for these events must be equally shared by both races. You may have a different opinion than I do of this Modern Day plight, and that is okay. To me, it is all senseless and needs to stop. Thanks David P for the use of your picture "Liberty Theater". |
By Brett Matthew West
Reverend Thomas Cardinal was dearly loved by his congregants. Often he visited them in their most troubling times, providing his special loving touch. It was such an occasion that had him out that night.
The hours rapidly sped by. Now, he was headed home, driving in a heavy rain. The two lane country road he was on was narrow and meandered like a snake.
Without noticing it the good Reverend ran over a large, jagged, rock causing his car to spin out of control and crash.
Before Reverend Cardinal blacked out he saw a stunningly bright white light flash before his eyes. He knew what that meant.
The clock that hung in her kitchen told his wife of fifty years it was six in the morning.
Upon answering, the ringing phone told her from now on she would be eating her breakfast alone.
RIP!
(Word Count: 145)
| Author Notes |
Some times terrible things happen to the best people.
We call this life and it is not always good. Thanks danjaavoo for the use of your picture. |
By Brett Matthew West
He began quieting the crying baby he held. The shredded bodies of the young parents of the child scattered about. Police Detective Paul Woodside knew Story Number Three would soon hit the air and wondered what the Hell was going on, "Six dead young people in a small dot on a state road map where everybody knew each other. What could the tie in be?" Then he asked the baby, "Bet you could tell me who did this couldn't you?" Suddenly, Woodside became the seventh victim and the baby began softly cooing contentedly once again. Waiting.
| Author Notes | Just a story that's all. So, enjoy! |
By Brett Matthew West
Ryan was a lonely boy, especially after his Daddy went off to war. He never felt so alone in his life.
Sensing his sadness his Mother convinced their hometown baseball team to let him throw out the first pitch at their next game.
Ryan proudly strolled to the pitcher's mound and was handed a baseball. He wound up and threw it to the catcher.
The catcher caught the ball and removed his mask. The surprised boy bolted into his Daddy's outstretched arms much faster than he had tossed the baseball.
Happy tears rolled down the faces of everyone there.
| Author Notes |
This is a true story that happened to friends of mine this past Friday night.
I watch over Ryan and his Mother when his Daddy is deployed because his Father and I have been real close personal friends for many years. There really wasn't a dry eye in the stadium when Ryan and his Daddy were reunited after his Father's third deployment to Afghanistan ended. Ryan was not told beforehand that his Daddy had returned. I knew I had to write this one. Thanks sonshine for the use of your picture. |
By Brett Matthew West
Veronica Johnson is the meanest snake that ever slithered in our little town. Because of her venomous ways everybody despises her and avoids her like the plague.
The Preacher's son Billy Taylor is a mighty precocious youngster if there ever was one. And, the boy's only fear is being late for supper.
Old Lady Johnson was skinny dipping down at the lake. And, unbeknown to her Billy, while munching down on a hotdog smothered with ketchup, snapped the proof on his cellphone's camera.
Upon noticing pictures were being taken it was too late for her to cover up. Billy spent the next two days telling his tale and showing everybody an eye full. Now the Old Bat is too embarrassed to show her face in town.
Instead of earning himself a well deserved trip to the woodshed for his actions Billy quickly became a hero.
Ain't that the cat's meow?
| Author Notes |
This story intentionally limited to 150 words.
For those of you not familiar with the Country expression "trip to the woodshed" it means corporal correction. Cat's meow means a surprising result. Thanks Cleo 85 for the use of your picture. It goes so nicely with my little story. |
By Brett Matthew West
It was midnight when Johnny flipped his television on. Rummaging through the channels he found a scary movie.
Thunder roared outside his living room window and flashes of lightning streaked across the eerie night sky. Johnny pondered why not?
The munchies on his mind, Johnny scanned the contents of his refrigerator for a snack. A poor church mouse would starve to death trying to eat out of that contraption.
Johnny located some dried out yard bird with funny looking green stuff growing on it. He brushed it off, returned to his sofa, glued his eyeballs to the program he had selected, and chowed down.
Suddenly, Johnny did not feel well. What entered one end burned like a raging volcano coming out the other. After ten rounds of losing what he had consumed Johnny went straight to bed.
Being decimated by a steamroller would have been a lot less painful.
| Author Notes |
This story intentionally limited to 150 words.
Written just for the fun of it. So, laugh a little. Who hasn't been there? Thanks Jean A. Cormier for the use of your picture. It goes so nicely with my little story. |
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