‘But you will join us later‚ won’t you?’ asked Mama. ‘Besides‚ you promised to take us to the Christmas Fair.’ ‘Well‚ I don’t think… not this year… but perhaps...’ He faltered when he saw his wife’s crestfallen face. ‘Yes‚ perhaps I will attend after all. I may even sell you to the gypsies‚ although I have to admit you are priceless…’ Blushing softly at his backhanded compliment‚ Mama gently stroked her husband’s cheek. ‘You old romantic‚’ she whispered. Then she realised her three daughters were
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‘Tim‚ must I remind you that tonight is the last night before we reach the shores of Cuba‚ I have used the rest of the ingredients that were soon to go off.’ The cook exclaimed as he came bursting through the doors with a steaming hot pot. As he set it down on the long wooden table‚ a waft of smells hit our noses sending us into a hungered frenzy. As all the sailors started to reach forward to scoop the contents from the pot‚ the cook slapped their hands away. ‘Hey! Even though you scallywags are
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For the next few weeks‚ Rain fell into a sort of routine (as much as they could‚ given how busy they were with assisting around the shop): every week‚ once a week‚ they would — when no one was around to notice them — dig out the shoebox. They then would grab a few bills‚ no more than ten or twelve (ten or twelve seemed like an appropriate number) and set them aside. Then‚ whenever they got the chance‚ they would head to the bank and inform the teller that the money was to go to the hospital‚ to pay
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I was sitting at the desk of the late Sir Lawrence when a peculiar parchment on the ground caught my attention. “R.Montague‚ I fear that Benjamin is the killer. Maintain a good level of vigilance. L ” Death by suicide had been the unanimously accepted explanation for the abrupt passing of Sir Lawrence. Now that this document has surfaced‚ it suggests a more violent death. I ran through the labyrinthine alleys of Manchester as a miasmic stench seeped up from the ground‚ the faint acrid smell of
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Prologue: The trial was over‚ and they were scheduled for execution within 24 hours. There they were‚ in the courtroom‚ handcuffed‚ with no right to speak any longer. It was all over again. Now it is time to pay for their transgressions. April 1st “Oh my God! How dare she?” Ivy was furious; her face was scrunched up‚ her sleeves rolled up‚ and she was ready to take on a boar. “Take a deep breath‚ calm down‚ and tell me what happened‚” said her stepsister‚ Natty. “Why would I tell you?” he asked.
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The little townhouse nestled between its neighbours struggled to contain the whispered secrets of the knitting group‚ the once ferocious click-clack of the group had morphed into a stunned silence as the group’s members struggled to digest the heavy truths they had been fed. A sudden‚ heart-wrenching sob cut through the silence‚ prompting a chorus of sympathetic murmurs. “It just all makes sense now‚” Sara-Jeans’ voice trembled as she spoke‚ her words flooding out of her like water spilling out
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Breathing was difficult. It was harder when you had just killed someone; Vera Claythorne knew better than most. With the ocean wind biting her gun hand‚ her thoughts frantically scrambled for leverage in her brain. Did I actually kill a person directly? Vera thought. Her brain transported her back to her past. Her indirect murder was flashing back. Cyril‚ I couldn’t save you. I can’t say I’m sorry‚ because I just killed a man. She dropped the gun. It was a weapon that symbolized murder and hate
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*Knock‚ knock. * A metal door knocker was clapped against the wooden door that created a loud bang and clash‚ startled Macbeth as he was expecting some visitors. Not only was he expecting other thanes‚ but two very special guests that were not a part of the banquet. As he quickly ran to his door‚ he saw his dear friend Lennox and the other two very special guests. Macbeth guides Lennox to the dining room. He giggles and laughs in a nervously as he slightly turns his head to the side‚ eyeing the special
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CHAPTER NINE Troll Snatching I opened my eyes and two giant wart covered trolls who bore an eerie similarity to the creature that had haunted me in my nightmare were standing over me glaring down. Their red beady eyes were filled with detest and I screeched loud enough to wake the dead. One of the monsters stuck his hairy hideous hand over my mouth and the other sprinkled around some kind of teal colored magical dust. I breathed it in and I was under their spell. "Get up and get dressed boy!" One
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But those long gone tears and hurried footsteps are an hour or two gone now. The golden sun was rising right in front of me. It felt like a good day to give bad luck to gamblers. Or annoy Jack. I got off my bed and walked into the closet. My messy‚ short red hair sitting over my eyes. I pushed my hair away and got on a white long sleeve shirt‚ a V-cut waistcoat and some black pants to match my gray boots. I exited my room and started to head to the Mistress Luck room. I smelled a faint
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