14 Results with the "finding Mabel" tag
1921 (1)
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Esotericism (1)
esoteric phenomena (1)
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Investigation (1)
Mabel Shirley (2)
Mid-20th Century (5)
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mysticism (1)
naval base security UK (1)
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The Hairy Hands of Dartmoor (1)
The Mabel Shirley Case Files (1)
Victorian (7)
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writing the supernatural (1)
WWII (1)
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Joyce had been in her new post for three weeks, and already it felt older than the building itself. The first had been chaos, chasing files across London as divisions closed and merged under the new order. The second had been consolidation, stacking lives into steel cabinets beneath humming lights. By the third, she began to wonder whether she had stepped forward into promotion or sideways into exile. Her team, five fresh constables from Hendon, were eager and painfully green. She spent more time…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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Joyce had tried to read the third page. Then the second. Then the first. Blank. Every one of them. It was Sunday evening, already late. She needed to get to bed, back to work in the morning. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, easing the dull ache that had settled behind them. Seated at the bureau, she felt herself drifting, that soft pull toward sleep that came before you realised it was happening. From somewhere deep in her mind, a hushed voice called her name. “Look…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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Joyce had returned to the bureau with tea. She set it down beside the map case and tried to recall what she had taken from the first page. The first page resisted her. She read the opening line twice and found that it did not settle. The words were ordinary enough, but they failed to hold together. She reached the end without knowing what she had read, only that something had passed through her attention without stopping. On the third attempt, she realised she had been reading for some time. Not…
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25.9 K • Ongoing
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She awoke slumped at her desk. As she lifted her head, fear spiked within her that she was late for duty. She jolted upright in her chair, scanning the room for the clock and calendar. A moment later, relief washed through her. Saturday. Eight a.m. Her shoulders dropped. She let out a quiet laugh at herself. After twenty-eight years of police service, duty was now a desk job. And weekends were no longer stolen by the call of a whistle or the ring of a phone. The previous evening began to…-
25.9 K • Ongoing
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