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I’ve become so secretive about it, making notes on scraps of paper and hiding them away from prying eyes. Deep down we’re all the same though, wanting to be the one who receives the plaudits. We keep things to ourselves, when it’s quite apparent that if we all lay our cards on the table we’d be able to solve the crime without a problem.
I was so sure that I was right though. Every scrap of evidence had been carefully analysed. Every suspect had been thoroughly considered. Every room in the house carefully trawled. Or so I thought. I must have missed something, a vital clue beneath the plant pot in the study or under the kitchen table.
I knew I was wrong by the look on her face, so disappointed when I spoke of the lead pipe in the kitchen, but I soon as I revealed a name a smile broke free. I should have known it was that bloody Professor Plum.
Excellent stuff overall - though the actual writing didn't do all that much for me, the tale itself outshone.
You must have unlimited stories flowing through that brain of yours Meka. You should get it insured!
Much appreciated.
I've just submitted a cut-down version of this to Flashshot - they email you a story eaxh day, always less than 110 words. It's pretty cool:
[URL]http://flashshot.tripod.com/[/URL]
Excellent.
Excellent. :)
> I assume the theme of loss was based around not winning the board
> game ? Blatantly inspired by you being thrashed in a family game of
> Scrabble by your little sister ;)
...or even Cluedo.
Liked it, although I don't like twists you did this one very well. Good stuff.