Author: stinkercross

*This is a short, unfinished, story I wrote a few years ago when I had writing aspirations. Once again those dreams are coming to the fore and I rediscovered this piece. I’ve never submitted it anywhere before but I would like some comments on it, anything you like, just be honest. I would add that this is a true story and I have many other true stories in a similar vein I could tell…if there was the demand…*

​

Chapter 1

The park was lively that Sunday. Couples were everywhere in the late August sunshine, strolling together, talking, holding hands, cuddling, kissing, making the most of the dying embers of a summer that had never really delivered. Children laughed and played, families relaxed together. All seemed right with the world….their world. I walked amongst them, a man in his forties, unheralded, unnoticed. Nothing special, nothing to see.

I carried a bag. Inside, a book, a mobile phone. Also in the bag, some clothes. Jeans, a shirt, pumps, a bra and black lace knickers. And a purse. The purse was full. Keys, phone, money, credit cards. All there. The cards weren’t in my name. Read more »