Reporters

    Reporters are trained to develop a sixth sense, a nose for when a story smells fishy. And something about this one wasn't right. First of all, this woman looked a little too excited to see me. No one was ever that excited about an unannounced press visit. We were called vultures, parasites and scum most of the time. I had been called worse things from time to time but welcomed? No, never welcomed. Especially, this close to the discovery. And secondly, the look in the woman's eyes was something closer to satisfaction than sorrow.
    I watched her carefully behind my mask of pleasantness. She gave me the same spiel she gave the police pausing only to ask if I wanted more tea. I wrote it all down despite not believing a word of it. Her smile was barely contained when she expressed shock and despair at hearing how the girl had been beaten and assaulted.
    I uttered sympathy when she explained having to find a new babysitter. Never letting on that I knew she was lying. It all clicked into place when she told me she was thinking of getting a boy sitter this time instead of a girl, but she had yet to mention it to her husband since he locked himself in his room with grief and had yet to emerge.
    I bid her good day and strolled away from the house. My mind spinning as I couldn't wait to tell my boss that the babysitter had been sleeping with the husband and that was probably why the wife had her killed.

Dreamer

I lived in this town my whole life, and most of the time that's fine by me. But in late fall when the sky fills with birds migrating south for the winter, traveling thousands of miles, I get homesick for places I've never been. Places like New York, Rome, and London. Nothing ever happens in this small community and sometimes I just wish for excitement. There are no drastic changes or unexpected surprises here. All the normal stuff happens kids rebel, relationships end but eventually, everyone marries their high school sweetheart and settles down. Very rarely does someone decide to leave but even when that happens it's not surprising.
I doubt I will ever leave this town. I have no reason to leave but it doesn't stop me from wishing something, anything would happen.
My family calls me a dreamer. I think it's the most accurate description. I don't have the courage to be an adventurer or the confidence to be a rebel. No, I sit at home and dream of other things, other places that I'll never go.

Winter

    The wind whispered through the dark, empty trees like a warning in a foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winter, all life would seem to stop. The part would shut down and no travelers would be able to get through the snow. The residents of our port town would stay locked in their homes.
    I breathed in the cooling air. All the merchants selling winter wares would be gone in two days, just before the water froze over and no more ships could get through. I slipped through the trees, silently as possible so as not to startle the wildlife. Just two days left until the world would freeze, and I would no longer be able to enjoy the woods. Then it would be several months until the bravest soul would venture out into the winter.
    I checked a trap I had set out before glancing up at the orange and pink sky. There was still some time before dark I could check the last trap before I had to travel back. As I moved on a shuffling sound came from my right. I froze. It wasn't the wind it sounded almost...human.
    The shuffling came again and I crept towards it, slowly. I stopped behind some bushes and moved a branch to see into the clearing beyond. A boy lay on the freezing ground. I blinked in surprise before moving closer. His clothes were light and clearly weren't meant for the winter. His blond hair was longer than I expected but still short enough to see his eyes were closed.
    He shivered creating the shuffling sound I heard. I felt my lips twitched into a smile, maybe something good had come in with the winter. But first things first, I had to get the mysterious boy somewhere safe and warm.

Flowers and Chocolates

    "How did you know?" I asked, not sure I wanted the answer. I thought I had been careful. I thought she hadn't noticed, been to oblivious to notice. I should have known better.
    Her eyes sparked with rage, "How could I not know? If you thought you were being secretive, you're a bigger fool then I thought. Or did you think I was to stupid to notice!"
    I didn't say anything, answering wouldn't help the situation. She didn't seem to care that I didn't answer and continued speaking.
    "What do you think I thought when things that weren't mine and clearly weren't yours, unless you developed a habit of cross-dressing, showed up around the house. I knew the moment you brought her home and introduced us that she was the one."
    She started pacing on the other side of the kitchen bar. The plates and glasses have been forgotten.
    "You picked a fine looking specimen but does she even have a brain beneath all that hair or did she kill all her brain cells with how much perfume she wears. You couldn't even pick someone interesting. She's such a stereotypical homewrecker type that it's disgusting. Were you even thinking when you choose her or was you're smaller brain taking up to much blood."
    She glared at me as if daring me to defend myself. When I didn't say anything she snatched her keys and purse before moving towards the door, "I'm not going to give you a solution so you better find one on your own otherwise things are going to start burning and I won't care who they belong to."
    The door slammed shut and her car peeled out of the driveway so fast I thought she would leave marks. My shoulders sagged and all the air left my lungs. I collapsed into a chair and stared blankly out the window. Flowers and chocolates weren't going to cut it this time.