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    Top Writers Block: Revolution
    Top Writers Block: Revolution
    Top Writers Block: Revolution
    Ebook168 pages2 hours

    Top Writers Block: Revolution

    By Top Writers Block

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    About this ebook

    You say you want a revolution? This short story collection combines the talents of writers from all over the world. A son learns of his mother's secret life...locals in a farming community revolt against big business, as well as nature...a mother and daughter deal with life's revolutions...there is a journey of self-discovery...there are themes of survival and the French Revolution....you might even find a few cannibals in this collection.

    Drama, poetry, fiction, and even some horror - an eclectic mix sure to have something to catch your interest. Give it a try won't you? This collection includes stories by Elizabeth Rowan Keith, Suzy Stewart Dubot, Tracey Howard, Melissa A. Szydlek, and John R. Muir.

    Your purchase of this ebook not only supports the creative outlets of independent authors, but also supports charity. Top Writers Block is an international group of writers who continue to donate ALL of their proceeds to Sea Shepherd in France, an organization that devotes itself to preserving our seas and oceans and the life within. The authors donate all proceeds to charity.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTop Writers Block
    Release dateOct 12, 2015
    ISBN9781310831690
    Top Writers Block: Revolution
    Author

    Top Writers Block

    Top Writers Block is a diverse and eclectic group of talented writers who decided to write stories together - just for the fun of it! We are happy to announce that authors proceeds have always gone, and will continue to go, to Sea Shepherd.fr every time Smashwords has made a payment! Thank you to those who have supported the group, independent authors, and Sea Shepherd. Our collections are usually written with one theme or genre in mind. Each author contributes when they have the time, so some of the collections have as many as twelve authors participating. Every collection has something new, with stories and poems ranging from romance, drama, and adventure to mystery, fantasy, and horror. All the Top Writers Block's proceeds will go to Sea Shepherd, so by buying you are helping to keep our oceans alive! Thank You all so much!

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      Book preview

      Top Writers Block - Top Writers Block

      A Collection of Short Stories

      by

      TOP WRITERS BLOCK

      Written on the theme:

      Revolution

      Copyright ©September 2015 Top Writers Block

      Published on Smashwords

      ISBN: 9781310831690

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

      Smashwords License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each.

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Person of Interest by Elizabeth Rowan Keith

      Keeping Your Head… by Suzy Stewart Dubot

      Three Locks by Tracey Howard

      Never Underestimate the Elderly by Melissa A. Szydlek

      Local Knowledge by John R. Muir

      A Minute In Time Tracey Howard

      The Air of Freedom by John R. Muir

      PERSON OF INTEREST

      by

      Elizabeth Rowan Keith

      Copyright ©September 2015 Elizabeth Rowan Keith

      Elizabeth Rowan Keith is a researcher, writer, photography, and artist who has received multiple awards in all four fields. Along with her collie, Belle, she tends many gardens and trees under the grand sky of the North American Great Plains. She is the widow of award-winning author David H. Keith.

      Outrage propelled Baker down the station hall and into the detectives’ bullpen. Phillips was absent, but Miller was there. He cradled the telephone just as Baker entered.

      Baker faced Miller squarely.

      You asshole.

      Sit down, Baker, Miller responded, pointing toward Baker’s desk chair.

      Screw you, Baker spat at Miller. My mother is not a suspect.

      Technically, no, Miller said calmly. She’s a person of interest, at this point. We don’t think it’s likely that your mother tramped through the woods in the dark with a gun in her hand. And let’s not forget it was your girlfriend and her companions who were shot.

      She’s not…. Baker began to protest.

      He stopped to take a different tact.

      ‘We?’ Are you telling me Phillips is in on this, too? Baker demanded.

      You are a detective, Miller reminded Baker. You know how we work a case. All suspects, all aspects, and all possibilities are covered. It’s a process of discovery, consideration, and elimination.

      Baker walked over to his desk. He opened a drawer, and slammed it shut before pulling out his chair and kicking it across the room.

      Miller didn’t react.

      This is why we step back from working cases too close to us, he said.

      Baker pointed his index finger at Miller as he took a step toward him.

      You don’t know what you’re doing! Baker shouted.

      They didn’t give me sergeant stripes for not knowing what I’m doing, Miller replied evenly.

      Baker opened his mouth to reply before he checked himself. Miller had just warned him he was addressing his senior officer and supervisor. Baker reached into the box of evidence bags on Miller’s desk.

      Show me what you’ve got, he demanded.

      Miller stood, blocking Bakers hands from grasping the evidence while drawing the box away.

      Knock it off! Miller ordered. You know you are not to touch anything involving this case. You are off of it. You stay out of it.

      Baker stood back. He glared at Miller.

      You don’t tell me what to do, Baker sneered.

      Actually, I do, Miller reminded him. And I’m beginning to wonder if you have lost sight of the benefits of career longevity.

      Baker kicked Millers desk. He appeared to be daring Miller to take action against him.

      You are so fucking out of line, Baker warned.

      That would make two of us, Miller responded. And I’m out of patience with you. As of this moment, you are on administrative leave until further notice. Is that clear? You are out of here. Do not show up here again until you are notified to return to work.

      Baker fiercely glared at Miller. In the silence he heard his partner’s footsteps coming down the hall. Phillips was not someone he wanted to see right now. He felt betrayed enough by his sergeant. He didn’t want to square off with his partner, too.

      Baker bulldozed through the doorway and into the hall.

      Hey, Bro! Phillips greeted him with a smile.

      Baker glowered at Phillips as he rushed past. His only response to the greeting was to smash the pizza box in Phillips hand against his partner’s chest.

      Phillips leveled the pizza box and stepped into the detectives’ office. He looked at Miller.

      So he figured out where we’re looking? Phillips asked.

      He did, Miller confirmed. It was only a matter of time. He’s not stupid.

      He’s not taking it well, Phillips commented.

      You missed the greater part of the display, Miller said. Baker is now on administrative leave until further notice.

      Phillips set the pizza box on his desk.

      I wondered if that would happen. It’s his mother, after all.

      Yeah, Miller said shortly. Is that lunch?

      It was, Phillips said speculatively as he opened the lid of the pizza box. Now it looks more like a puzzle than a pizza.

      Miller began organizing the evidence on his desk.

      Phillips watched for a moment, then noticed Baker’s chair overturned against the wall. He could imagine the encounter he’d just missed.

      Miller peered into the pizza box.

      That’s one mess of a pizza.

      Kind of looks like this room, Phillips commented.

      Nothing we can’t handle, Miller said gruffly. We’ve both seen worse.

      Phillips recognized Miller could have been talking about the room or the pizza, or both.

      Miller untangled a slice of pizza.

      Veggie? he asked.

      Phillips blushed.

      Yeah, he said. It’s Angela’s favorite. While she’s in the hospital I kind of thought…

      Miller bit the end of his pizza slice. As he chewed, he studied Phillips.

      Does she know? he asked.

      Phillips hadn’t realized he was so transparent, even though he should have known Miller would notice. He didn’t miss much.

      She’s been unconscious. She doesn’t know of Baker’s…shift in attitude toward her, Phillips replied.

      Miller continued to look at Phillips. His gaze softened.

      Does Baker know of your shift in attitude toward her?

      ****

      Baker purposefully squealed his tires as he left the station parking lot. He was angry. He was betrayed. He was going to let everyone within earshot know he wasn’t going to sit back and take it.

      The bag with a purchase he had made while shopping for his mother’s birthday present at the gift shop slid to the floor. It was a plate with a birch scene painted on it. He still didn’t know why he’d bought it.

      Glancing at the wrapped box in the seat beside him, Baker turned toward his mother’s house. The four Depression glass tumblers he intended to add to his mother’s set as a birthday gift now also served as a good excuse to talk with her to find out if she had been visited by his coworkers. If they had talked to his mother as a suspect, he intended to explode on them like a volcano.

      As he drove out of town, Baker noted he was headed toward the crime scene where all the trouble at work and at home began. He knew he was still restricted from the scene. He was not allowed to go to that birch grove, just like he wasn’t allowed to go to work.

      Piss on it, he thought. He wouldn’t have to drive that far. The road to his mother’s house was closer than that crime scene. Since he never intended to go to Angela’s house again, there was no reason to ever go that far.

      Baker turned on the road to his mother’s house. He could see the tall, country Victorian ahead.

      He thought of how little it changed over the years. His family had moved in with his grandmother when her husband died. His father had taken over the farm. It seemed like the duty of an only son. But that was his father, not him. Baker wanted no part of being a farmer. Farm chores as a kid had been enough for him.

      Pulling into the gravel drive, Baker noticed his mother’s house and garage had been freshly painted. As he parked by the side of the house, he thought it odd that his mother had not mentioned having the house painted. It was true that he had been dragging his feet at taking on such a job, but he really did intend to do it.

      Tucking the gift under his arm, Baker exited his vehicle. As he closed the door behind him, he began to scan the house in front of him. The gutters were clean and repaired. New shingles had been tucked in among the old. An assortment of chairs and small tables he had never seen had been added to the porch.

      Wondering if his mother’s church group had begun to meet regularly at her house, Baker walked up the porch steps to the kitchen door. He called out to his mother as he entered.

      The house was quiet. His mother did not return his greeting. He did not hear the creak of antique floorboards or stairs as she approached. As he paused to listen, he realized he didn’t even hear the familiar tick-tock of the Bavarian clock his great-grandparents had brought with them when they immigrated. His mother must have forgotten to wind it. He had never heard the house so quiet.

      Baker’s footsteps echoed loudly as he walked through the kitchen to the dining room. Right away he noticed the lace tablecloth missing from the table. Only for cleaning was the table ever uncovered. He’d almost forgotten what the table looked like.

      The silent clock was missing from the wall. He didn’t see it anywhere.

      Baker turned to the dining room china cabinet to be sure his gift matched the four tumblers his mother already owned. His mouth fell open when he saw the china cabinet empty. His mother had been collecting since before he was born. She owned family pieces that had been handed down to her. She prized each piece, particularly her Depression glass.

      Baker walked through the living room and kitchen, checking china cabinets, shelves, and hutches along the way. They were all empty.

      I wonder if she’s planning to move, Baker thought. Maybe she would rather be living in a retirement community. Odd that she never mentioned it, though.

      Baker walked to his father’s office. The door from the living room was closed, as usual. It had been closed to keep out rummaging children for years, and out of habit later in life. After his father’s death, the family continued to keep the door closed.

      The little-used knob turned with a squeak. The hinges squalled as the door slowly opened. It had been almost a year since Baker had been in this room. His mother had never found a reason to use it. Once his father’s things had been separated and stored, it was rare that anyone opened the door.

      One stark change was apparent. The gun case

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