Daily Short Stories from The Penned Sleuth

https://www.thepennedsleuth.com/blog/office-sprint "...and if follow these steps we should see a noticeable rise in..." ​The CEO wasn't the most charismatic in the world. He droned like an animal in pain. The other board members all hated the idea of talking to him and it was unavoidable. Each one planned their escape, strategically getting ahead of the others and making their way to the lobby. The mumbling continued in a monotone fashion and I fought all my instincts to blink so close to the end of the day. I noticed the others weren't as careful, which is why they will lose.

https://www.thepennedsleuth.com/blog/corsair-by-tim-severin-book-review Corsair by Tim Severin is the first novel in the Hector Lynch series. In this book, Hector is kidnapped by corsairs and enslaved. Hector needs to grow and adapt to survive, all the while searching for his sister who was kidnapped as well. It’s an incredible adventure with harsh realism that can only be found in historical fiction. Here is my spoiler-free review of Corsair!

https://www.thepennedsleuth.com/blog/the-abandoned They had a nickname for us. It wasn't a particularly good nickname, but we accepted it. The other kids called us the Abandoned. We were the group of children who sneak out at night to do God knows what. It wasn't long before we found our base of operations. The abandoned apartment building. Ever since we've been called the Abandoned. It was the perfect hideout, to escape adults and the problems they gave. Sometimes we were just rebelling against the curfew, but other times we just needed a place to be really alone. There were plenty of rooms in that building.

https://www.thepennedsleuth.com/blog/silence-manor Silence Manor, my home. The long halls, the quiet libraries and the balcony overlooking the ocean below added to the atmosphere. I even dreamt about the manor while I slept in one of its rooms. I've lived a good life, filled with wonderful people, all long gone but remembered fondly. I was the youngest; although I was now well into my fifties. I plan to spend my last days in Silence Manor and with the way that I have been ostracized by the outside world, why not make it my last few decades as well.

https://www.thepennedsleuth.com/blog/redemption The mist settled in and soon the compound was hidden from any prying eyes. The Captain rummaged among the rags and equipment until he withdrew a rifle. It was old and it took me a while to recognize the make. It was a Russian. Immediately I knew it was the rifle that the recruit was talking about. It didn't matter now, it was the Captains. What he laid his hands on belonged to him, be it the trigger of a gun or your throat.

https://www.thepennedsleuth.com/blog/the-devils-contract The office was an oddity in itself. A long table, two chairs either side and no windows. The room was lit by fluorescent lights that gave everything a sickly tone. He came in through a door at the end of the room, sat down on the chair his side and looked at me. He turned the room from sickly to sinister. Of course he did. When it comes to signing this contract what happens is serious, but at least effective.

https://www.thepennedsleuth.com/blog/omerta ​Omerta; the law of silence. When the boss issues the law of Omerta in the neighbourhood it means bad things are going to happen. If we witness or hear the event taking place in any way it is our job to pretend it never happened. We saw no evil, heard no evil and shall speak no evil. It was as simple as that. Of course, there is always a fool that does. A fool that is asking for a short life.

https://www.thepennedsleuth.com/blog/the-black-torii The Japanese gates, or toriis , are a common sight in Japan. They are used to mark the entrance to a holy shrine. All except one. The Black Torii, as it has become known in urban legends, marks the entrance to something else. As in all traditional religious faiths, anything different is considered sinister. However, there is no proof of anything sinister. People so far tend to lose track of where it is...or it keeps moving. Still, I had to discover the truth. Ever since hearing about the Black Torii I was obsessed with finding it.

https://www.thepennedsleuth.com/blog/the-less-grey ​The snow fell gently on our heads. I could feel it slowly melt through my beanie into my hair, chilling me to the bone. My brother was trying to make a fire. It was painful to watch. He was just poking a big stick with a little stick. The result? A sound that that was causing me to twitch like a psychopath after too much coffee. Ah, coffee...I missed the stuff. Honestly, I would gladly twitch like a psychopath if I had a pot of coffee in my stomach.

The cafe hummed with life. Machines produced wonderful smells as coffee brewed. People chatted quietly to each other, but laughed loudly. However, the kitchen seemed to be much different. Chefs worked tirelessly to produce baked goods, and small, fancy lunches. Coffee was another challenge all together, especially since no matter who the owner hired they seemed to have lied about their ability to make coffee on their resume.

Synthetic, meaning created by man to imitate something natural. Light, is something that stimulates the eye to make something visible. Synthetic light, by definition, is man creating false light in order to make something visible. Does that mean what is presented to us by man is false by nature? It was often a perplexing contradiction of meaning, a paradox which I have circle my mind as often as possible till I have the answer. All I see is synthetic lights now.

Mist Valley, you may have heard of it. It is a forest up north inside a steep valley. The only way in and out is with some heavy-duty climbing equipment or a helicopter. Of course, as the name suggests, the forest is often clouded with mist, but fog would be a better description. If it wasn't for the tall pine trees you couldn't even see the forest. It was the perfect place for a resort. The atmosphere was magical. At least, that's what thoughtless entrepreneurs considered an ideal resort location.

Night time is definitely the most eventful time of the day. More gets done during the night than you think more lucrative work anyway. Unfortunately, this is not my work. I drive people from where they are to where they want to be, while I never leave the same seat. The streets are complicated and never lit by proper lights. I have to follow neon streaks and hope that what I'm driving on is the right road. However, despite all my jobs faults I enjoyed it. There was a certain relaxing appeal to it.

Fire; one of the most interesting and useful discoveries in history. Unfortunately it’s also the most destructive. With these factors in mind fire can be used scientists to heat chemicals to create life-saving medication. Or, fire can be used to destroy something. So it is in the interest of the common man that fire, if used destructively, should be used by professionals. Standing in the scorched building I concluded that's not what happened here.

I didn't enjoy the silence. It was awkward and I didn't want to feel awkward in my last moments. Luckily, he decided to start speaking. "I suppose it has something to do with the economy..." he said eventually. "Hmm?" I replied breaking away from my thousand-yard stare. "What makes you say that?" "Well, if our lives were better, perhaps we wouldn't be doing this," he suggested. It was curt and I could understand his trepidation. Still, he had it wrong. "I think you can put that theory to rest."

Tensions were high this Halloween. Trouble in government, which affected everyone and trouble at home, which affected everyone I cared about. My father lost his job, my mother was sick and my sister was missing. I knew she ditched to go to a high-school party, which only annoyed me more. I was the one who drove from two cities over to see our parents, but I guess it was a three-piece Halloween this year. Still, I was glad to see them again. No matter what path of life you take it is always a pleasure to return home.

The Bedlam Stacks by Natasha Pulley is the story of a botanist and ex-East India Company smuggler, Merrick Treymane going into uncharted Peru to take illegal cuttings from cinchona trees. The bark from these trees yields quinine; the only known cure for malaria. What starts as an expedition to steal these plant samples leads to the discovery of something far greater. Here is my spoiler-free review of The Bedlam Stacks!

The Midnight Library by Matt Haig is the story of a woman learning what life is all about after death. A story filled with lessons on seeing the good, recognizing the bad and making the most of it all.  Here is my spoiler-free book review of The Midnight Library!

"How is the subject?" Dr Roberts asked. "All is well, sir. Project Q is doing just fine." "Good and how was Z's transition?" The scientist looked nervously up from his tablet at the doctor. Dr Roberts raised an eyebrow. The subject wasn't dead, but there was some sort of complication. That's what Dr Roberts read from the man’s face. Something inside him told him that another one of Z's complications had come up and despite the frequency of them, he still was afraid of being surprised.

I worked for a large school just off the coast off the Atlantic. It was a prestigious school and man was it the largest around. I could spend a good hour walking around it before I visited all the rooms. I am the janitor; unfortunately, my family did not have the funds to send me to such a school. I wish they did.