The Locket And The Thief
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On a lonely quiet misty night after midnight in Melbourne, anything can happen and it did. At that hour, only the reckless and unprincipled wander around.
On such a night as this, a straggler from a theatre was wandering in the cool calming night remembering a lost daughter who he'd lost many years ago on a night like this. This day, to be exact, 28 years earlier. She was murdered with her husband as they walked the street he was in. He came as he always did this night to lay a rose for them. He did so unbothered, for all the times he had come. Before that night. He pulled out an old locket and looked at it sadly and opened it, looking at the pictures inside it. They were his daughter and her husband. The father pulled a red rose from his inside coat pocket and lay the rose on the wet road. As the father knelt laying the rose there was a noise nearby on the road like a splash in the puddle, he looked up and saw a man with a gun trained on him.
Apie autorių
Rachel loves gothic poetry and the stories of Emily Dickinson, Poe, and other poets and writers. She writes in a gothic, sometimes romantic, and somewhat eclectic style.
Is a classic, prolific writer.
