By Richard Brown
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Extra info for The Gift of Illusion: A Paranormal Thriller
Isaac had his phone up to his ear, listening. Simmons opened up the folder and looked through the photos again, searching for any minor differences in the room. He found none. Everything looked the same as in the photographs. “We’ll head right over,” said Isaac, and hung up the phone. He snatched the manila folder from Simmons and flipped through the photos until he came to the one he had been searching for. In this particular photograph, most of the horror was not apparent, but what it did show was a clear view of the windowsill and the dresser.
She put a big yellow sun in the background beyond a few skinny green trees. Her teacher thought she had done an exceptional job. Lori was proud, too, and couldn’t wait to show her mom and dad. When she reached the bus loop, Lori headed down the sidewalk reading the large white numbers on the side of each bus looking for number 254. About six buses were lined up in a row. Number 254 was fourth in line. Mr. Davis drove number 254. This was his first year and the kids (all twenty-five of them) made him feel at home real quick.
Isaac turned back around and stared the brunette reporter right in her bright, anxious eyes. “I said no comment at this time. D. The scent was fresh, almost sweet, and it crawled all over his skin. A half dozen policemen roamed about the house, going upstairs, back down, and then back up again like working ants revolving in a steady circle. Simmons chatted with one of the blue and white uniformed officers in the kitchen. Isaac headed over, but before he could take two steps from the front door, another policeman snuck up from behind him.