Lock Blog
Pleas do not lock the doors

All the prints were found inside the car and some on the outside. I am not exactly sure where. The police say that it is hard to get a good print from inside the car. All I really know is that some were found inside, and one on the door handle.

Only thing that I was missing were a few CD’s. Even if the prints were found inside the glove compartment or dashboard how would it be enough still?

I guess I am asking how the placement of the prints would make that much of a difference in this case. It does not prove that he stole them. It proves he was inside at one point. Hell all I know he could have secured my car, after the break in, or he could have been the tune up guy. I really do not know. I know in the past I have done simialar to a car, I have closed doors that were left open, I have even locked cars up for people that were left open in a parking lot. So I can see how certain other things are conceivable, that a stranger might have done innocently.

By: Nubian King

I also get it on supermarket trolleys and car doors.

Please don’t say I need to change my shoes, it doesn’t work.

By: Appy

It’s your grandmother here, sitting on the rocking chair, right by the fireplace, clicking my needles, so lost and depressed. With age I’ve grown lonely, with age I’ve grown weak, as years continue melting I sink further and further into myself.

I try to smile politely as you crouch by my side, pretending to notice, but truly, I’m lost, too lost to notice your pretty blue eyes, too lost to notice your sweet smile and compassionate heart.

I haven’t moved from this chair, this chair is my home, where my soul rests, and my mind wanders without boundaries.

I’ve thought of wonderful things in this chair, ideas and plans you will never expect; never believe until it’s too late.

It seems like years, years since I last moved from this chair, but I am ready, I know the time has finally drawn in.

I slowly get up, a flash of pain strikes through by body, tired muscles that have rested for so long, now alive, ready to fulfill their duty.

Quietly I ascend the wooden staircase, careful not to fall in the dark, so careful as not to disturb my great plans. I know which room is yours; I know where you sleep and where your last breath will be made.

I carefully turn the door handle, entering your room with the quietist of steps, as not to wake you, my dear child.

For one last time, I stare at your delicate golden locks and pale skin, for one last time I look at a life that will be no more.

I raise the knife, slowly, knowing my motive is near completion. Then, savagely, brutally, with no regret I thrust it down, down into your living heart, a once loving heart that now runs cold.

I slip back into my rocking chair, clicking away with my needles, just as lost and depressed as ever. My chair becomes my home once more; after all, nobody expects a thing, not from an elderly woman like me.
Yes, i wrote it
Nope, i’ve never seen those movies

By: Jαcob™

Thanks!

By: Jim I