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E - Everyone

Carl and his investigation

by illy7896


Standing there, his eyes smarted from the frosty weather that had hijacked his investigation, he had soon believed that something was missing from his journal. Rather, something was missing from the clues that he had pieced together. Pages and pages dedicated to profiles, stories, and events like a patchwork quilt with different materials sewn together only to result in a colourful explosion of questions and answers. But it didn’t quite fit together. For now, he could only interpret and guess the story of that lonely town. So many things had taken place: protests, murder, legends, myth, even kidnapping, could it all be a facade? Something was off about this. Maybe that was just his natural instincts kicking in. Afterall, the qualifications of a detective- resourcefulness, wit, intellect and finally suspicion. But still, he was a man of reason and logic, and would not make such a statement without a rational explanation.

Flipping through the contents of his journal, Carl ruminated on a certain polaroid picture that he had taken not long ago. Even now, he shuddered as his eyes wandered over the hideous scene. His client, W. Hamilton, sprawled on the dirty floor of the nearby convenience store. He had delicately placed a blanket over his dead body, but still revolted each time he had stepped in only to see his corpse. Boxes splayed and cans knocked over from shelves like rain from the sky, somebody must have left that place in a rush. He closed his notebook and put it back into his pocket. That was enough for now, he would have plenty of time to admire the pictures when he finds more evidence.

Carl dropped his cigar and the snowy ground flushed out the last of its ashes. Opening the door of the small wooden hut that provided him a salvation against the Canadian cold winter, he embraced the small fire that he had recently started in the furnace. He surveyed the small room, piercing through the dimly lit dark for handy tools and resources- he saw a pack of cigarettes, a pistol, and a key. Lurching forward to the shelves from the hinds of his chair, he snatched the cigarettes with feverish haste. Can’t hurt, he thought to himself with a devilish grin. Then, he turned to the pistol and tucked it away in the insides of his coat. With snow this thick and terrain this harsh, it can’t be bad to protect himself against the hungry wolves that have started feasting on old rubbish and loitering around left-over campfires. And if he didn’t arm himself, they would be feasting on him very soon. Diverting his attention to the key, Carl realised that this could indeed lead him to the missing piece of the puzzle. The old ‘buzzkiller’ as his colleague would say to him, recapping the treacherous tale of his latest adventure. Not that being a detective was a very social job.

On his way out, he had noticed a group of empty bottles under a small table, hidden by an overhanging table cloth. Whisky. In weather like this, who could blame them? He knelt down and peered into the wooden box that they were in. Kneeling a little closer, he had noticed another cigarette. Flamed by a tiny spark, Carl could not help but notice that it was still burning. Surely, he had not done such a mindless thing as leave a flaming candle there on the floor. But then again, there was nobody alive in this isolated and godforsaken place? 


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Wed Feb 24, 2021 5:33 pm
HarryHardy wrote a review...



Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

First Impression: This was a pretty neat little story that you have. It feels a little bit incomplete to me at least but I think it is pretty interesting to see. Well I'll get into more detail down below.

Anyway let's get right to it,

Standing there, his eyes smarted from the frosty weather that had hijacked his investigation, he had soon believed that something was missing from his journal. Rather, something was missing from the clues that he had pieced together. Pages and pages dedicated to profiles, stories, and events like a patchwork quilt with different materials sewn together only to result in a colourful explosion of questions and answers. But it didn’t quite fit together. For now, he could only interpret and guess the story of that lonely town. So many things had taken place: protests, murder, legends, myth, even kidnapping, could it all be a facade? Something was off about this. Maybe that was just his natural instincts kicking in. Afterall, the qualifications of a detective- resourcefulness, wit, intellect and finally suspicion. But still, he was a man of reason and logic, and would not make such a statement without a rational explanation.


Well...that is a very interesting paragraph to be there at the very start of a story. It certainly does get one's attention though so I think you've done a good job there. We're a little bit in the dark about exactly what we're doing here and who this person is supposed to be but umm...well mysteries are always fun so let's see how this goes.

Flipping through the contents of his journal, Carl ruminated on a certain polaroid picture that he had taken not long ago. Even now, he shuddered as his eyes wandered over the hideous scene. His client, W. Hamilton, sprawled on the dirty floor of the nearby convenience store. He had delicately placed a blanket over his dead body, but still revolted each time he had stepped in only to see his corpse. Boxes splayed and cans knocked over from shelves like rain from the sky, somebody must have left that place in a rush. He closed his notebook and put it back into his pocket. That was enough for now, he would have plenty of time to admire the pictures when he finds more evidence.


Not quite sure why you would specify the polaroid because it doesn't seem to be all that necessary of a detail. The details of the picture though are pretty good. The conclusion he draws from it also really adds to the whole experience of the photo and I love the fact that its included.

Carl dropped his cigar and the snowy ground flushed out the last of its ashes. Opening the door of the small wooden hut that provided him a salvation against the Canadian cold winter, he embraced the small fire that he had recently started in the furnace. He surveyed the small room, piercing through the dimly lit dark for handy tools and resources- he saw a pack of cigarettes, a pistol, and a key. Lurching forward to the shelves from the hinds of his chair, he snatched the cigarettes with feverish haste. Can’t hurt, he thought to himself with a devilish grin. Then, he turned to the pistol and tucked it away in the insides of his coat. With snow this thick and terrain this harsh, it can’t be bad to protect himself against the hungry wolves that have started feasting on old rubbish and loitering around left-over campfires. And if he didn’t arm himself, they would be feasting on him very soon. Diverting his attention to the key, Carl realised that this could indeed lead him to the missing piece of the puzzle. The old ‘buzzkiller’ as his colleague would say to him, recapping the treacherous tale of his latest adventure. Not that being a detective was a very social job.


Hmm...not a bad description there of him taking stock of things and then heading out to get his job done. The grin and the details with the wolves adds to his personality really well too. The one issue I see even if its somewhat nitpicky, would be saying that he lurched towards the shelf, the image that gives is not quite what I would see of someone just reaching for that before leaving, it gives an image of desperation that I don't think is required here.

On his way out, he had noticed a group of empty bottles under a small table, hidden by an overhanging table cloth. Whisky. In weather like this, who could blame them? He knelt down and peered into the wooden box that they were in. Kneeling a little closer, he had noticed another cigarette. Flamed by a tiny spark, Carl could not help but notice that it was still burning. Surely, he had not done such a mindless thing as leave a flaming candle there on the floor. But then again, there was nobody alive in this isolated and godforsaken place?


Hmm...well that is definitely a bad combination. Whiskey and fire together that is...well...certainly is a very interesting detail....although ending the piece here kind of makes it feel somewhat incomplete. I feel like this needs more of a natural sounding end point.

Aaaaand that's it for this one.

Overall: Overall this was certainly an enjoyable read although I think this could be even better with a couple of improvements. That's all I gotta saw for now. :D

As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.

Stay Safe
Harry




illy7896 says...


Thank you so much for your suggestions and your review, I think that I do agree that it is a little bit incomplete, so I'll be sure to change and add more of a sound conclusion



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Wed Feb 24, 2021 5:33 pm
HarryHardy says...






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Wed Feb 24, 2021 4:01 pm
Beccablue wrote a review...



Hi illy7896!

This is a great short story! I love mystery and suspense! I'm interested to hear if this was just a small idea or you are wondering where you could take this plot later. I really liked it, and you fit a lot in, so let's jump in!

Pages and pages dedicated to profiles, stories, and events like a patchwork quilt with different materials sewn together only to result in a colourful explosion of questions and answers. But it didn’t quite fit together.


Great imagery! Really helped explain the many leads/evidence he had and the need to fit it together.

After all, the qualifications of a detective- resourcefulness, wit, intellect and finally suspicion.


In my opinion, it doesn’t really flow. I was expecting another thought. Try changing it to, “a detective is resourcefulness, wit, intellect, and finally, suspicion.” Don’t forget the extra comma at the end and 'Afterall' is two words [after all].

Carl dropped his cigar and the snowy ground flushed out the last of its ashes. Opening the door of the small wooden hut that provided him a salvation against the Canadian cold winter, he embraced the small fire that he had recently started in the furnace.


I liked how you slowly revealed to us the weather and where he lives. Also telling us what type of person he is. This was a very well written paragraph! I also liked the words you used, it helped encapsulate the scene and each word carried specific meaning, such as, feasting, diverting, feverish haste, flushed, and lurching.

Whisky. In weather like this, who could blame them?


I think maybe changing ‘them’ to ‘him’ would add to the scene. Just my thoughts.

The last paragraph was great! It tells us that there was someone there, or they are still there! Oooooo, mysterious! I like where this is going, great job setting it up!

I liked your previous stories too, with your biggest strength in vocabulary and imagery, I look forward to reading more! Keep up the creative ideas!




illy7896 says...


Thanks a lot, maybe I will carry this on into a real story, that's so kind of you to mention my other stories. Thank you for your review and I'll be sure to consider your suggestions




It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind