Tag: story

Categories
Fiction

Romantic Gift | Short Story

Julia swept open the door, and as his face peeked around the corner, she slammed it right back into place. What was he doing here?
“Julia? At least open the door so I can talk to your face.”
She moaned quietly and shook her head. What was Phillip doing here?
“I told you that I didn’t want to see you. Why are you here?”

Phillip was quiet on the other side of the door, and Julia rested her forehead on it. It annoyed her, that a small part of her heart was happy to see him. After everything he pulled last summer, she wanted her feelings to completely disappear. But, that wasn’t how feelings worked.
“I have something for you. I’d like to give it to you face to face. Please open the door.”
Another moment of silence passed before Julia relented and slowly creaked open the door. Phillips chiseled face, and flowing black hair was breathtaking as always. She sighed at his sad expression but left the screen door securely closed.
“You look good. Thanks for opening the door.”

Julia rolled her shoulders and stuck out her chin. “What is it, Phillip?”

He kicked his foot, staring at the ground for a moment. When he met her eyes again, he pulled his left hand out from behind his back. “I brought you something for New Year’s Eve.”

She opened her mouth, but words refused to cooperate. A present? That’s why he wanted to come over. Presents wouldn’t solve anything between them. He’d played games with her heart, and stomped on it when another girl came along. She was done with the games.

“Is this another ploy? To get me to feel for you again, then rip the rug out from under me?”

Phillip shook his head, pushing the small box further towards the door. “I promise, it’s not. I just wanted you to know how I feel. How sorry I am for doing all that crap last summer. No strings.”

She unlocked the screen, and reached for the small box, recognising her favourite jewelry store stamp on top. Opening it, a stunning pair of diamond earrings sparkled back at her. She held her breath. “Phillip, I…” she couldn’t get the words to cooperate. She didn’t want to start things again with him unless it was real this time. His gesture was nice – really nice! – but it wasn’t an answer to all the hurt.
“I’m not asking for you to forgive me today, or even next week. I just want you to know how I feel. I care about you, and I’m not giving up.” He smiled at her – that weak at the knees smile he gave – and dropped his hands into his pockets. Before he turned to go, Julia nodded, still holding onto the open box.

Phillip walked to his car and pulled out of her driveway. Out of her street. Maybe he had changed. Maybe they could have a meaningful relationship after all.
Julia held her breath. Only time would tell.

See You in the Adventures!
Christy Grace

Categories
Fiction

Pigeon Sniper | Short Story

THIS STORY IS FICTIONAL. ANY SIMILARITIES TO REAL PEOPLE OR EVENTS, IS PURLEY COINCIDENCE. 

“He watched the scene below him carefully. From his place high above the fray, the humans looked like ants. Of course, that meant the ants were invisible from this height. 
He’d been put through vigorous training to get to this point. He’d known he could do it – always. The humans hadn’t been so sure. They hadn’t realised the power he held within his own wings. Now, he had his chance to prove it. 
It hadn’t been done yet – using a pigeon as a sniper. Sure, they’d been talk about it. Talk about using our amazing gifts to be spies – but assassins were new.”

Steven stopped typing and rubbed his hand over his face. He was officially out of ideas. A pigeon as a sniper… He rolled his eyes at the comical idiocy. His own work was still trying to find its place after the incident last year. A pigeon sniper was a new low.
He raised his hands above his head and stared out the office window. The grass was swaying in the soft breeze, and a pigeon spread its wings, taking off. He wished he could rise like the bird, take off and never come back to his deadline.
Groaning dramatically, Steven replaced his hands on the keyboard and shook his head. He could do this. Wiping the words that he’d already written, he started again.

“He watched the street of people through his sniper scope. He loved watching the people, walking through life as normal. Like ants, ready to be stepped on, or picked off one by one. 
He waited to catch one of the ants that he liked, in his scope. Easy target. Nope. He moved past the woman and her child, and instead focussed on a runner. 
The man was tall, and from the looks of his sweat, he’d been running for quite a while already. People may even think he’d dropped from exhaustion. Until they saw the blood.”

Steven stopped typing again and felt the panic overwhelming him. Damn flashbacks from the incident. He wanted to write this story. He had to. If not to have another book for his publisher, then to get the story out there. People needed to know what it was like. To be in front of the scope, and behind it. The why, the when, the how. It was important. He went back in.

“Carefully adjusting for wind, angles, and obstructions, he lined up the shot perfectly. His finger itched, and he released the rush as he pulled the trigger. His miscalculated shot ricocheted off the stone fountain beside the runner, and he continued. Oblivious, thanks to his headphones. 
He sighed, then returned his focus back to the ants below. Someone would be his target, and this time he wouldn’t miss.” 

A sound behind Steven gave him pause. He stopped writing and flicked his head behind him. He was too late. The man was already standing behind him.
The man who had looked through the scope. The man who had missed the runner, who had killed the woman and her child instead. Steven raised his hands in the air in surrender and let a tear fall down his face. He’d found him after all.
The man behind him leaned in close. “This time, I won’t miss.”
He pulled back and released the trigger.

See You in the Adventures!
Christy Grace

Categories
Fiction

A Winter Train Ride | Short Story

I gripped the frozen steel bar, my fingers ash white in the below zero temperature. 
This train wasn’t going to stop.

The wind whipped through my fur-lined coat; unable to protect my organs from the harsh winter that I wasn’t used to. I watched the countryside pass by – which would have otherwise been beautiful – in a blur.
The icicles that were pooling on the steel frame outside, would also have caught my attention. Swirling inside themselves with water that had frozen into a beautiful point, they hung on each edge. My creative eye would have stared at those icicles for hours, but their beauty was muffled as I watched the mountain getting closer.

This wasn’t a passenger train; it was designated to carry cargo across the country. That’s why when I finagled my way onto it – claiming I had permission from all the authorities – I was curious to see the differences in a passenger line. Before my exploring had begun, frantic yelling at the front had fuelled my curiosity further and I had confirmed it. This train was heading towards a mountain with no tunnel, no tracks, and no working breaks.

Without listening for the WHY, I pumped my legs and headed towards the best vantage point of the potential danger; the car closest to the mountain. After I’d realised that I couldn’t see without leaning out of the door, I obliged and the frozen wind forcefully met me there.

Quickly a hand pulled me back inside and I saw the train driver screaming at me. As the cold wind continued to rip through my ears, his words were deafened. His eyes were frantic as he pointed towards the back of the train cars.
I followed the driver and tears began to form in my eyes. Ignoring them, we ran through the first, then second, then the third car until we reached the final one. With only moments before the impact, the driver leaped out of the train and onto the snow-covered tracks. He thundered onto the ground and rolled.
Before I could see if he was okay; before I could decide if I wanted to risk being injured or killed from the fall, the sound of steel smashing behind me propelled me forward and I closed my eyes for the impact.

I hope you enjoyed this short story. 
What do you think happened to the person in this story? Did they survive? Let me know how YOU see that ending!

See You in the Adventures!
Christy Grace

 

 

Categories
Fiction

Smoking or Non Smoking | Short Story

I walked slowly towards the non-smoking section with my hands resting in my coat pockets. It was time. Time to show Slone Carter what it meant to cross me. I was nobody’s fool.

The mid-afternoon smokers always felt more encroaching than the rest. Maybe because the day was already partially over, or maybe because they felt that the non-smokers wouldn’t want to come out to the courtyard and brave the cold weather.

I could see my breath as I took each step closer towards Slone. There was nothing he could say to change my mind; this was how it had to be.
Another step, and another. The bulge in my pocket felt heavier as I get closer. My heart thud in my ears and head, and pulsed through every vein in my body.

I reached them; the smoking workers. One looked up and frowned at the sight of my scrunched face. I pulled out the gun that rested in my pocket and aimed it at Slone Carter. His college pulled at his sleeve and pointed in my direction; the whole group freezing in place.

“Slone Carter. You know who I am?”
Slone shook his head and the anger warmed my cold extremities. “You wouldn’t. I’m just one of the many people who opposed the expansion of the Smoking Area.”
Slone narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he stuttered. His eyes dropped to my gun and his face softened. “You should put that down before someone gets hurt.”
I straightened my shoulders and shook my head violently. “I’ll bet you didn’t consider the environmental impact of smoke. Not to mention the second hand smoke issue for humans and animals.”

Slone Carter rolled his eyes and I stiffened. He wasn’t taking this seriously. If he wouldn’t, I would make him. I took a step closer and the other men in the group – who had dropped their cigarettes onto the ground – retreated a step. Slone, however, didn’t move an inch. His face became calmer the closer I got.

“What do you want me to do about it now?” Slone asked.
I paused. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you to return things to normal.”
Slone laughed and I took another step, my gun now inches from his head. I frowned. “Why aren’t you more concerned that I have a gun to your head?” Sirens grew closer, and in the pit of my stomach, I knew they were coming for me.
Slone raised his chin and tilted his head. “Because I know a real gun when I see one. All you’ve got is a water pistol.”

See You in the Adventures!
Christy Grace

Categories
Fiction

The Great Bike Robbery | Short Story

“Don’t point that thing at me,” I said as he pushed the weapon into my face.

“Shut up! Just hand it over,” he said, his eyes wild. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“Don’t wave that around, you could hurt someone.” My protest fell on deaf ears as he eyed the loot he had spotted behind the counter.

“This is a serious weapon. Just do what I say.”

I was getting impatient now. “You think I’m just going to hand this over? It’s worth a lot of money. More than you have, I’m sure.”

His face scrunched further, and he flung the weapon further towards me. I took a slight step backward and sighed dramatically. I glanced at the woman standing in line behind him and she avoided eye contact. I didn’t want to call my manager to the register for this, it wasn’t worth the incident report.

Begrudgingly, I shoved the items into a bag and handed them over to him. He grinned and continued pointing the weapon in my direction as he walked backward out of the store.

“Haha!” He screamed, running from the store and towards his getaway vehicle.

The boy slung the bag over his shoulder and jumped onto his bike, slipping the water pistol shaped like a gun into his pants pocket. He pedaled away with whooping about his victory.

The woman who had been behind him opened her wallet and paid for her son’s purchases. She gave an apologetic smile and slumped her shoulders, “He’s never done anything like this before.”

Okay so ‘GREAT’ may have been a stretch. Have you been a witness to an interesting incident with a child and parent in a store?
Share it in the comments below!

See You in the Adventures!
Christy Grace

Categories
Fiction The Murder App

Murder App | TWO

Ella pushed the door open and dropped her bag in the entryway of her two-story home. Finally home at 9 am. Ted would probably be at work by now, so she had some time to decompress on her own. The sounds of paws clattering across the wood floors grew louder as their golden Labrador barrelled towards her.

She smiled and reached out her arms for the welcome unconditional love.

“Hey Samson,” she cooed as the dog nuzzled into her, then ran towards the kitchen. Samson was still a puppy at one year old, and his spatial awareness was non-existent; something they were often reminded of as he knocked down tables, chairs, and anything else that wasn’t nailed to the floor.

Ella closed the front door and shuffled towards the kitchen. She hadn’t slept since yesterday, so her boss had insisted she ‘grab a few winks’ then report back later this afternoon. She wasn’t sure if sleep was going to come; not with another Murder App victim currently in the morgue. When she’d heard about Lucy, Ella had been in danger of spiraling. After 10 years on the job, her heart broke a little more with each devastating case that came her way.

Lucy had been her roommate and best friend, and the guilt about not seeing her before it was too late, was starting to eat her up inside. It was only when her boss agreed to waive the conflict and let her be involved in the investigation when the flutter of anxiety settled. She could focus on making it right, instead of only blaming herself for doing nothing to stop it.

Ella opened the fridge and the aroma of spaghetti, which ordinarily made her salivate, made her stomach flop over. She closed the door and shook her head at Samson, standing over his food bowl. “No buddy. I’m sure Daddy’s fed you already.” The dog whined in protest, then stuck out his tongue in that way that made it look like he was smiling. She smiled in return and rubbed behind his ear as she moved into her bedroom.

The bed was made, and a pair of her pajamas were set out on her side of the bed with a handwritten note. She chuckled and shook her head as she picked up the note and read her husband’s neat scrawl.

‘Thought you may need to crash, so I fed the dog and laid out some comfy PJ’s. Get some rest, I’ll see you later.”

Her husband’s thoughtfulness was overwhelming. Combined with the emotion of the Murder App case, it was too much and she allowed tears to silently trickle down her face as she collapsed onto the bed. Samson trotted into the room and licked her arm in support. She smiled down at him and wiped her nose on her sleeve before standing and changing for the fitful sleep she was sure would come.

She hid under the covers and let Samson snuggle up at the end of the bed.

They had to find the man who was killing these women. Lisa Renner made three, and he was killing one every two weeks. His cyber skills gave her boss cause to bring in the cyber division, and she had a meeting with them at 4 pm. Hopefully, she’d get enough rest to not look like a drunken raccoon by then.

I hope you enjoyed the second Chapter of my newest ongoing CGSP series – The Murder App. I’m letting this story take me where it takes me each month – just like how HCC started.
Keep checking back every month for another part to the story!

See You in the Adventures!
Christy Grace

Categories
Fiction

The LAUNDROMAT | FURIOUS FICTION

DO NOT OVERLOAD THESE MACHINES
The words were in big block letters and I read, then reread them over and over. I tapped my foot quickly as the sun on my back continued to heat my neck.
He was late.
My first drop at a laundromat and he was late.
A short woman in her eighties waddled into the room and I crossed my arms.
She glanced at me and smiled, carrying a basket full of clothes onto the small table opposite me. I smiled back and glanced around the room, fidgeting with the edge of my shirt. Where was he?
I patted the stuff in my jacket pocket and exhaled. This was such a stupid decision. As I stood up, a tall, thin man in his forties walked into the room. His shirt sleeves were ripped displaying a large tattoo and he had a scraggly beard that hit his chest.
He was here.

I took a deep breath and glanced at the old lady, her back turned away. The man looked over at me and nodded, slinging a bag from over his shoulder, onto the ground near the machines.
I stood and readjusted my jacket, slowly walking towards him. As I approached him, he looked up and smiled.
“Sam?” I asked, looking down at the man, sweat slowly falling down the back of my neck. He frowned and stood,
“No, sorry man.” He slapped my shoulder and turned back to the bag, pulling out dirty clothes and stuffing them into the machine.
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. As I spun, I glanced around the room. Was he not going to show? Sighing, I stared at the sign again.
DO NOT OVERLOAD THESE MACHINES.

“You shouldn’t overload the machines, Dear.” The old woman said quietly. I turned and frowned,
“What?” I asked as she turned and smiled.
“My name is Sam. I think I’m who you’re looking for.” She said, crossing her arms and leaning against the table. I snorted out a laugh and shook my hand.
“I don’t think so,” I said, smiling. The woman rolled her eyes and looked over at the man at the machine, leaning in.
“Just give me the stuff dumbass.” Her voice was hard and her wrinkles deepened as she scowled. I stuttered over my words and glanced at the man, headphones now in his ears.
“Stop blubbering and give me the chewing tobacco,” Sam said, holding out a wrinkled hand. I looked down at it and reached into my jacket. As I handed her the paper bag she grinned and pulled out a small purse.
“I don’t see why this isn’t sold in Australia anyway.” She muttered as she rummaged inside the purse, pulling out the money. She shoved it into my hand and nodded towards the door.
“You can go now,” she turned and continued organising her laundry.

See You in the Adventures!
Christy Grace

 

Categories
Podcast

It’s Called………..

THIS IS IT!

Last podcast episode, I shared what my debut novel is about, and this time with PART TWO, I finally reveal the name that I’ve been sitting on for two years!

Celebration Dance GIFs | Tenor

The CGSP: First Book Journey podcast episode – Title & Story Release – PART TWO has been uploaded!
I can’t wait for you to know all the info, so check out the link to the podcast
>>> here

CGSP_ First Book Journey (2).png

Don’t let my book be the only one we talk about. Readers – what is the BEST book title ever? Share in the comments below.

See You in the Adventures!
Christy Grace