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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



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The genre of fiction is interesting to read not only by the process of cognition and the desire to empathize with the fate of the hero, this genre is interesting for the ability to rethink one's own life. Of course the reader may accept the author's point of view or disagree with them, but the reader should understand that the author has done a great job and deserves respect. Take a closer look at genre fiction in all its manifestations in our elibrary.



Read books online » Fiction » A Season For Everything by Matthew Fairman (e reader txt) 📖

Book online «A Season For Everything by Matthew Fairman (e reader txt) 📖». Author Matthew Fairman



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through the loose scree on the gradient that descended into the chamber. The frozen rivulets of ice, slumped and waxed around the mouth of the cave, silently creeping down the rock face like tree sap. The dog was in agitated, lifting its muzzle in the air and baying and snapping at the roots of an old trees stump in the centre of the space. Mike came around behind Kaiser and grabbed his collar, attaching the leash he yanked him away from the tree stump. He smacked Kaiser on the rump, the dog whelped and crouched submissively, his belly down flat against the ground.

‘What the Hell’s got into you. Is Emma here, is that it? Emma,......Emma, can you here me. Emma.’ The hollow sound of his voice ricocheted around his head. It was too dark, he couldn’t see a thing. Mike rocked on his heels then fell back into a sitting position. He hugged Kaiser around the neck. He began to weep. He felt the warm tracks running down over his cheeks. They gatherer in his beard. Kaiser warm tongue licked his face.

‘Where has she gone boy. Where’d she go.’ After a few minutes he got up led his out from the cave.

‘C’mon boy, let’s go, we won’t find her here.’

 

When Hollis got home she found her mother, Jill, was asleep on the sofa. She switched the television off by the remote and turned the christmas tree lights off at the plug. She left a lamp on for company. She went upstairs and looked in on Leo and Greg. One of Leo’s arms was flung around his blue octopus. One leg thrust out over the edge of the bed from beneath the duvet. Greg was on his side facing the wall, some Star Wars figures lying at his back. She stood in the doorway for some time, contemplating her children. He boy’s were growing up fast. Soon this room would be too small for them. It was already a struggle to keep them from fighting at times.

‘Maybe I should give it up. I’m missing it all. I’m never here for them and when I am I’m tired.’ She went in to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Her mother appeared in the doorway yawning.

‘Oif, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. You just got back?’

‘Yeah, not long. How were the boys?’

‘Oh they were fine we played some board games and watched some TV.’

‘Did they do their homework?’

‘Yes. After quite a lot procrastination I managed to get them to finally do it.’

‘Do you want a cuppa?’

‘Yeah, go on then.’ Jill sat down at the kitchen table while Hollis busied herself around the kettle. How was work today, your back late tonight?

‘Yeah, sorry I had to finish up some loose ends. You know paperwork and stuff.’ Hollis sat down opposite her mother in the light of the low hanging kitchen lamp.

‘What’s up Hollie. Don’t tell me that nothings wrong. You’ve got a face like a slapped arse.’

 

‘I don’t know mum. I’ve given up so much to do this but maybe I’ve given up too much.’ ‘What’s happened Hollie?, this doesn’t sound like you.’

‘I got disciplined again at work. It was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

‘Why?’

‘I overstepped myself. I put someone else in danger Mum. I screwed up.’

‘I’m sure whatever you did you did with the best intentions. You’re really good at what you do.You know that.’

‘Well try telling that to the sergeant, I’m sure he wouldn’t agree right now.’ The kettle clicked as it switched off.

‘I’ll get that you stay there.’ Jill got up and fixed two cups of tea and set them down in the middle of the table.

‘So you still haven’t told me what happened.’

‘There’s this man, a real average sort of quiet guy and out of the blue he just stops coming to work. No message no warning. Then he runs away from home.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, who knows I mean it’s weird huh but it gets stranger.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah, within a couple of days another woman goes missing, I mean people go missing all the time, right, but two people in a couple of days. Then the guy turns up back at his own house sleeping in the garages at the back of the house,.....’ Hollis had stopped talking and was staring into the steaming mug.

‘Hollie You OK?’

‘The garage, I forgot the garage.’

‘What garage?’

‘We forgot to search the garages.’

‘I don’t understand Hollie.’ Hollis stood up and grabbed her car keys from off the dresser.

‘Where are you going, it’s gone midnight.’

‘I forgot to do something, could you just maybe stay a little longer, just a while.’ ‘Yes, I suppose but Hollie are you sure that,....’

‘Thanks mum, I won’t be long.’ Hollis had already put her coat on and was making for the door before Jill could get any more information from her. Jill sat alone at the table and sipped at her tea.

‘That girl. she’s so flighty. Blows hot and cold all the time.’

 

Hollis drove slowly, visibility was poor in the swirling white clouds of snow As if that wasn’t enough, the black ice on the road made driving condition treacherous. Great humped piles of grey freezing slush lined both sides of the empty streets. She had to keep the windscreen wipers going against the great falling flakes that drifted to earth in unbounded multitudes. On the radio they were urging people to avoid all unnecessary travel. It was the heaviest snowfall since records began and there was little sign that it was going to stop anytime soon. Hollis parked the car at a corner opposite a row of small shops. She didn’t want to risk being seen, she was in enough trouble as it was without adding to her mounting problems. Opening the glove compartment, she took out a torch and put it into her coat pocket. She reached behind the back seat where she found, lying beneath a pile of road maps, an extendable wheel brace. She took that too. Getting out the car she slipped the wheel brace into her belt beneath her coat and set off towards the garages. Hollis kept cover below the line of the ram shackled fences, staying within the confines of the shadows cast from the light of the rear terrace windows. She noticed that the snow here had been kicked up and disturbed somewhat by the police earlier that day. ‘What are you doing Hollis. This is a sure fire way to get yourself kicked of the force for good.’ There was a gap of about two feet or so between the ground and the raised lip of the garage door. She took the wheel brace from her belt loop and extended the arm. She switched on the torch, keeping the beam low against the ground so as to cast less light. She hooked the angled end of the wheel brace beneath the lip of the door and lifted it slowly whilst shining the beam into the darkness. The light hugged the line of the walls and crept across the boxes and bounced shadows over the broke down shelves that lay scattered about. She had to duck low to creep inside and once over the threshold she pulled the door to behind her as far to the floor as the rusting springs would allow. ‘I know that you’ve been here Beaton, I know it.’ She shone the beam on the glistening fragments of glass she had seen before. It looked as if some of the crates and the shelf had been moved. Lying across a wooden pallet was a soiled bed sheet, it had a large blood stain roughly in it’s centre. On top of it was a short length of blue nylon rope. She had seen something similar recently but she couldn’t remember quite where. ‘Oh Christ’. Hollis used the end of the tyre brace to lift one corner of the bedding. Underneath was an empty discarded gas canister, the kind use for a camping stove. Hollis crouched and tapped it with the wrench. ‘You fucker, you little fucker, you’ve been up there all this time.’ Shouldering open the broken door, Hollis backed out into the alleyway. At the same time she saw a fox jump from a neighbouring fence and land softly in the snow, no more than a few metres away. They had startled each other, they had accidentally stumbled into each others lives. The animal stared into Hollis’s eyes, a cold mysterious look that left Hollis rooted to the spot. Sizing her up and not being phased the fox padded on a few more metres and turning to catch another look it disappeared into a bush glazed with heavy snow. If a foxes face could crack a smile then this one had been grinning. The hunt had begun.

Beaton could see the two dark figures moving against the white of the snow. He was waiting at the top of the cliff by the old rope swing. The cave was attracting far too much attention. He knew that he would not be safe there for much longer. All he had to do was get rid of the old lady. Without a body there was no crime. He would go away somewhere. Lay low and then return after back after some time. He would be able to deal with their questions then. He would have thought of something to explain for why he had disappeared. Beaton waited near the rope swing for some time. Sitting hunched forward on the suitcase watching the flakes of snow swirl and tumble into the pitt. He was exhausted, he couldn’t face lugging the suitcase all the way down the slope and across the approach to the cave. He wheeled the suitcase to the edge of the cliff. The very same spot he had last seen Jonathan. He stood the bag on end with the wheels facing towards himself and shoved down the retractable handle so it was no longer sticking up. With one push he sent the bag sliding from the precipice and down through the air it fell. Turning over once and landing with a muted ‘wump’ into a patch of snow covered boulders. The bag was a little damaged. There was a large crack in the rigid base of which help to give it is shape. One of the wheels was slightly more than wonky too. He daren’t think about the damage it might have done to the little old lady who was parcelled up inside. It was only after Beaton had grappled with the bag for a few minutes that he realised what a mistake he had made. There was little chance that he was going to get the bag into the tunnels. There was no clear path, the floor was littered with huge slabs of icy stone and rock lying beneath the snow. Even when he had managed to get into the cave he was never going to move the body all the way to the camp. There were too many people sniffing around now too, he couldn’t abandon the bag where to could be found. He would need a place to keep the body out of sight, just until he was strong enough to move it again.

That night Michael couldn’t sleep, he tried to read but it didn’t help. His wife was around him everywhere. The reading glasses on the nightstand, the dressing gown on the door. Her shoes by the cupboard. All screaming at him in disgust at his constant state of inertia. He felt helpless, he needed to be doing something, anything. ‘I can’t just lie here. I can’t just go to bed and wait for someone to find Emma. It’ me, I should be the one. I should be the one spending every waking hour looking for her. Not waiting for the police to come and for it to all be too late.’ He threw back the covers and pulled his jeans and shirt on over his pyjamas. From the back of the wardrobe he took out his

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