Life Stories and Adventures in Writing
Copyright 2014 MillieAnne Lowe, Orange County, California
As Steele sauntered up Geary street, a smile spread across his face. He knew exactly which trick he would execute next and be ready to visit the cute hostess he met earlier. He turned around walked past the ladies who had ogled him and went back into Lefty O’Doul’s. Continue reading “The Serial Killer of Bush Street Part 24”
https://millieannelowe.wordpress.com/2014/10/03/the-serial-kil…street-part-22/
Copyright 2014 MillieAnne Lowe, Orange County, California
Stetson moved quickly through the crowd at Union Square and hopped onto the Hyde Street cable car. He grabbed onto the first white pole at the front of the cable car as it headed up the hill. Continue reading “The Serial Killer of Bush Street Part 22”
https://millieannelowe.wordpress.com/2014/09/25/the-serial-kil…street-part-21/
Copyright 2014 MillieAnne Lowe, Orange County, California
Stetson and Steele parted company outside the swinging doors of Lefty O’Doul’s. Steele strolled left toward Mason Street while Stetson had turned right toward Union Square, a place where he could disappear and not be known as a police officer. He had to decide what to do about Steele. Continue reading “The Serial Killer of Bush Street Part 21”
https://millieannelowe.wordpress.com/2014/08/28/the-serial-kil…street-part-19/
Copyright 2014 MillieAnne Lowe, Orange County, California
“Eric,” said Robin, “Why don’t you show the Chief the view out on the patio?” Continue reading “The Serial Killer of Bush Street Part 19”
https://millieannelowe.wordpress.com/2014/07/30/the-serial-kil…street-part-18/
Copyright 2014 MillieAnne Lowe, Orange County, California
Bewildered the three of us wandered through the cabin in the Saratoga Woods in awe. Continue reading “The Serial Killer of Bush Street Part 18”
https://millieannelowe.wordpress.com/2014/06/05/the-serial-kil…-street-part-1/
Copyright 2014 MillieAnne Lowe, Orange County, California
The images of cable cars passing behind me and pigeons flying overhead reflected in the store windows on Powell Street. Tourists crowded around the cable car stop and the conductor called out, “Stand back, stand back, now.”
At crowded times like this I hug my purse close to my body for fear of pick-pockets, but today I suspected I was being followed. Continue reading “The Serial Killer on Bush Street Part 1”
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