Shadow of an Imp

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Shadow of an Imp

It was me and wasn’t me
And if not me what could it be?
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Mystery at Pond Bottom

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Mystery at Pond Bottom (99 Words)

“Detective we need y—”

“Shhh.” Eddie Mahone waved his free hand. His other gripped a fishing rod. With his one good eye, the detective surveyed the lake’s calm, muddy surface.

His visitor spoke in a whisper. “But—we—need—your—help—”

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The White Seal

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The White Seal (356 Words)

The moon shone bright between a web of clouds. No one visited the island on nights like that, when the sea was a silver mirror. Stories surrounded that patch of rough land that sent shivers around a campfire. And yet there was a fire burning , the barest glow of gold under the dappled sky.

The pirates huddled around their small fire. It had been a successful run, but even so their tempers were muted. Only one of them scorned his companions’ nervous looks and low voices.

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Lady Melodia

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Lady Melodia (200 Words)

“Mom, why are we here?” said Katy.

“Hush, Katy.”

Katy was tired, carsick, and she just knew the hotel they were staying at wouldn’t have Wi-Fi. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Sure, the break-in at their house was unexpected, but this was an extreme response.

“I think it’s stupid,” she said, glaring at the green cliffs rolling by. “And whoever built the roads here needs their head chopped off.”

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A Harp and a Ghost

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For today’s Daily Prompt, “Entertain,” Wallie and I offer another snippet from a work-in-progress–a story in which a little girl is helped solving a crime by the ghost of a detective. The ghost is summoned to help her when Maddie plays a harp she found in the attic room. This is a scene in which he explains the harp to her.

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A Harp and a Ghost

‘Do you want to know the story of my harp?’ he asked.

I couldn’t care less. But it was his delicate asking, and the way he pulled the chair to my bedside, that interested me.

“It was during a case,” said Mr. Ingham. “I was murdered. Death is fearful enough on its own, but I’ll tell you what made it worse was my wife. She sat at the bedside long after the doctors had given me over and held my hands and warmed them, never asking if she could ease me for she knew she couldn’t. We said our words, we two, and it made me cry to see her there and feel so poorly. I didn’t want to leave her. But she kissed me like a parent would see, like this”—he kissed his hand and put it to his forehead—”and told me it would come out right. I was dying, but I’ll tell you the way she said that put a chill in me like living again.”

I raised my head from the pillow. “Did she save you?”

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