The Serial Killer of Bush Street Part 34

Copyright 2015 MillieAnne Lowe, San Diego County, California

Alone, after her nephew, Eric, and his friend, Fire Chief Greg Mullins, had gone back to work, Robin stood by the television rubbing her forehead and twisting the channel selector one way, and then the other. “That’s the same stuff you told me this morning,” said Robin to no one but the television. “Well at least there have been no new murders by the Serial Killer,” she added. Continue reading

A Bucket of Teamwork

An Exceptional Story to Share!

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Several summers ago for work, I attended a week-long team-building conference held on a college campus. Attendees were divided into groups of five and members of each group were to collaborate on various projects for the duration of the conference. Small assignments began on day one and we were informed that the conference would culminate with a day-long special teamwork exercise. On the last day of the conference a project unique to each group would be assigned and required to be accomplished by day’s end.

“To demonstrate how your group has become a solid team.” the instructor explained with an evil grin.

Groans echoed through the classroom. My group’s leader was the most vocal.

None of the five in my group had met before the conference. In fact, we each came from a different state and attended the conference for various reasons. My group leader made it clear that he…

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The Serial Killer of Bush Street Part 33

Copyright 2015 MillieAnne Lowe, Orange County, California

“Your girlfriend, she’s a beaut, eh?” asked the cab driver.

“That’s right. All 5’2″, with blonde curls, and eyes of blue,” boasted Steele.

“Well, any guy with a beautiful girl waiting for him is a lucky guy,” said the cabbie as he unknowingly drove the Serial Killer from his latest murder scene. Continue reading

The Serial Killer of Bush Street Part 32

Copyright 2015 MillieAnne Lowe, Orange County, California

The music of laughter, toasts, and clinking glasses floated out the open windows of Alioto’s upstairs dining room. Mario Barla, the manager of the world renown seafood restaurant, stood in a dark corner of the room observing his well dressed guests, seated at candle lit tables. One of Mario’s great pleasures is to be credited for the excellent service offered his guests, and so each evening, he also watches with the vastness of an eagle’s eye, his staff as they wait on their patrons. The first unusual event of the evening had been the quick departure of the guests from the center table. The group that he suspected to be FBI Agents had order aperitifs. All seemed well as they enjoyed their drinks until a quick moving rumor floating from newcomers coming up the stairs reached their ears. Continue reading