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When the Plumber Never Called: A Sydney Neighbourhood Thriller

By S A Spencer -
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  Image by AI Danger doesn’t always break in — sometimes it knocks. Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions : The Pink Mutiny , The Black Waters , Dream In Shackles Margaret heard the knock just as she was lowering herself into the armchair with her cup of tea. She paused, listening. The doorbell had stopped working again — she really needed to get that fixed once she felt better. She’d been waiting for the plumber to call before arriving, but perhaps he’d decided to drop by early. Tradies did that sometimes. She glanced at her phone on the coffee table. No missed calls. Maybe he forgot. Maybe she didn’t hear it ring. Her hearing wasn’t what it used to be. Poppy trotted to the door, tail wagging, ears perked. Margaret followed slowly, steadying herself on the hallway wall. She still felt a little light‑headed, but the thought of finally having hot water again lifted her spirits. She wouldn’t have to heat water in the kettle for bathing anymore. The thought alone made her sm...
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The Cat Who Didn’t Know It Was Lucky - Two cats. Two worlds. One lesson every human needs.

By S A Spencer -
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  Image by AI Freedom has a price. So does comfort. Gratitude lives in between. Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions : The Pink Mutiny , The Black Waters , Dream In Shackles Mimi bolted through the half‑open front door the moment the vacuum roared to life. “Mrrrow—enough! I’m done with this joint!” she hissed, tail puffed like a bottlebrush as she darted down the steps. Behind her, the humans kept yelling over the noise, completely unaware their cat had just quit the household. She didn’t stop running until she reached the end of the street, heart thumping, whiskers twitching. “I swear,” she muttered, “if they pick me up like a baby one more time, I’ll—” A shadow moved behind the bins. Mimi froze. And a low voice said, “Rough day, princess?”       A scruffy ginger tomcat stepped out, ribs showing beneath his fur, one ear torn clean in half. He smelled like rainwater and old fish bones. Mimi wrinkled her nose. “Who are you?” she asked. “Name’s Rufus,” he said...
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A Burnt Car, A Trembling Man, And The Clue No One Expected

By S A Spencer -
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  Image by AI  One car. One lie. One smile that ruined everything. Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions :  The Pink Mutiny ,  The Black Waters ,  Dream In Shackles The knife flashed before Karim Mansour even realised someone was behind him. One moment he was unlocking his old Toyota Camry in the Blacktown Station car park, the next he was stumbling backwards, palms raised, breath trapped in his throat. A hooded figure lunged at him, face covered, voice low and rough. “Keys. Now.” Karim’s scream tore through the concrete levels, bouncing off pillars and parked cars. Commuters froze. A woman dropped her shopping bags. Someone yelled to call the cops. The attacker shoved Karim aside, snatched the keys from his trembling hand, jumped into the Camry, and slammed the door. The engine roared. Tyres screeched. The car shot out of the bay and disappeared down the ramp. Karim collapsed to his knees, shaking violently, clutching his chest as if trying to h...
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Two Nights in the Forest: The Baby Who Shouldn’t Have Survived

By S A Spencer -
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  Image by AI A baby lost. A forest watching. A parrot who refused to leave. Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions :  The Pink Mutiny ,  The Black Waters ,  Dream In Shackles The forest shivered with a sound Mithu had never heard before — a child’s cry, thin and broken, drifting through the trees like a wounded bird. “Mama… mama… no?” the little one whimpered, stumbling away from the pit where the earth still trembled with the violence done moments ago. Mithu fluttered to a lower branch, heart pounding in his tiny chest. The baby’s bare feet scraped against stones. Her hands reached into the empty air as if searching for someone who would never answer again. “Papa… gone? Home? Mama… Mithu…?” she sobbed, her voice cracking like dry leaves. A low howl echoed from deep inside the forest — long, hungry, too close. The child froze. Mithu did not. He swooped down, circling her head, calling out the only words he knew from the woman who had loved her: “My baby… my l...
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