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Short-Story.Me!

Confession

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Father Bradley knew the killer was coming, it was only a matter of time. It was a huge paradox that someone so pious could kill and lie with impunity to save himself. Still, he was hardly a saint himself, despite his dog collar, he reflected. The things he had done. Were they much worse than what Olsen had perpetrated?

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Job of a Lifetime

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It was the job of a lifetime for me, teaching people to speak English in Hanoi, Vietnam, and getting paid big money for it.

In 1994, the war seemed long over, but for some, it was never going to end, soldiers becoming redundant, and innocent people becoming landlocked, their way of living and thought forever changed, so much so they could never rest, not until their job was done

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The Antique Dealer

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Adam Carr, a fifty-year-old antique dealer stood in the middle of his emporium and watched shoppers as they examined his unusual antiques. Collectors from all over the world came to buy his statues, artwork, jewelry, books, and hundreds more antiques that no other antique dealer could offer. Sir Eric Morgan, holding a gold necklace and a dagger, worked his way through the crowd to Adam. “Adam, my good man, my catalog shows this necklace to be one worn by Nefertiti of Ancient Egypt, circa 3600 BC,” he said and showed Adam the picture in the catalog. “An amazing resemblance, wouldn’t you say, old chap? Was it made for you? If so, shouldn’t you label it a replica?”

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Six Years Ago

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He put the Celtic music on,sat out on his small apartment deck in a plastic Adirondack chair and rewound the tapes in his mind.

Scenes from six years ago, He could make them as focused or as hazy as he wished, It was a curse.

They had bought a house, her daughter (his step daughter) was achieving high marks in high school and headed off to college. When he looked at his wife under the surface appeared to be her empty nest syndrome kicking in.

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The Clarinet Conspiracy

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Larry felt like a four-year-old trying to read a book. He knew the symbols had been carefully inscribed on the page by a great practitioner, but they might have been sneezed in ink for all he could tell.

He had begun to regret joining his adult music class. Even if he could figure out what the notes meant, how could anybody ever expect to work a contraption like this clarinet?

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