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Three Tiny Stories
Three Tiny Stories
Three Tiny Stories
Ebook33 pages21 minutes

Three Tiny Stories

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Two nearly-perfect murders and a hidden giant in the wall.. Three little short stories for a gloomy beach or to curl up with on a chill winter's night. If Rod Serling met Ray Bradbury met Richard Matheson...Grim stories to put the starch back into your shorts!

LanguageEnglish
PublisherVince Iuliano
Release dateNov 5, 2015
ISBN9781519909572
Three Tiny Stories
Author

Vince Iuliano

Freelance writer. Staunch crusader for truth, justice and the American Way..(writes under various names. You could be reading me right now, and not know it!)

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    Three Tiny Stories - Vince Iuliano

    Apple-Bashing Time..

    The apple orchard was the most logical spot for a killing. Sun-dappled, surrounded by rich foliage.  Once I’d made the decision to stage it there, I was pretty happy with the choice.

    The major problem I faced (one of many I soon learned) was the timing. I needed Jordan to arrive at two p.m. Not a moment sooner or later. The reason for this was because of the tourists, who were set to appear precisely by 3.

    I couldn’t very well smash him over the head with a mallet in full view of the unwashed.

    Nervously, I consulted my watch. Eleven minutes to show time. Casting an anxious glance at the front gate, I was both heartened and distressed to find it empty.

    Heartened because some hapless tourist normally misread the opening time and showed up too early, but not this time.

    Distressed because it looked like old Jordie-boy was going to be fashionably late to his own funeral.

    I tested the heft of the mallet in my hand. It was one of those old-fashioned wood hammers with the egg-carton designed heads. The whole thing must have weighed twelve pounds, and was perfect for tenderizing meat or skulls. We used it for banging a barrel bung back in place or for pulverizing a particularly hardened fruit. To the best of my faculty, this would be the first time it was used as a deadly weapon.

    The plan was simple, really.

    I would lure my partner into the most secluded part of the orchard on some pretext. It had been a cold October night, so I felt pretty safe with frost as my cover story.  Then, as Jordan knelt to examine a branch I had torn and placed earlier in the center of the field,

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