Author: Lee

  • The ghost at the table – Draft 03 – Chapter 17

    Logan I’m sitting in my cluttered home office, the glow of the computer screen casting long shadows across the room. My fingers are flying over the keys, faster than ever before. Then it happens. A ping that sounds like the end of the world. “System breach detected.” The words flicker across my monitor. The conglomerate’s…

  • The ghost at the table – Draft 03 – Chapter 18

    Logan Cramped space. The hum of machinery my constant companion. I sit, a lone figure in the dim glow of computer screens. They cast shapes across my apartment, light and shadow dancing over walls cluttered with tech and takeout boxes. My fingers dance too, swift over keys, a skill honed under military precision, now repurposed…

  • The ghost at the table – Draft -03 – Chapter 20

    Stephanie The office was quiet except for the methodical tapping of keys as I hunched over my computer, piecing together fragments of data like a digital-age detective. The glow from dual monitors cast an eerie pallor across the room, illuminating my focus: the mounting evidence against Logan. “Patterns repeat,” I muttered to myself, scrolling through…

  • The ghost at the table – Draft 03 – Chapter 21

    Logan The night was a heavy blanket, and my thoughts were the suffocating heat beneath it. The keys clicked under my fingers, a rapid staccato like how rain on a tin roof sounds like a round of applause. Each tap was a reminder of the past—a memory embedded in the code I once used to…

  • The ghost at the table – Draft 03 – Chapter 22

    Logan The wind cut through the eucalypts, rustling their leaves like whispers of conspiracy. I waited, back against the rough bark. This was the meeting spot—far from town, where the only eyes belonged to kangaroos and the odd wedge-tailed eagle circling above. “Logan?” Her voice sliced the silence. “Over here,” I called out, stepping into…

  • The ghost at the table – Draft 03 – Chapter 23

    Andy Delmonte I sit alone, the office around me a mess of papers and dust. The light from my desk lamp is weak, throwing shadows against the walls like crooked fingers. They blend with the darkness outside my window, a seamless transition from the physical to the metaphorical. The computer screen glares back at me.…

  • The ghost at the table – Draft 03 – Chapter 24

    Logan The cell is small. The walls are close. I sit on the edge of my bunk, the cold metal frame cutting into my thighs. My fingers drum a staccato rhythm on the concrete beside me—a silent tune only I can hear. Life in Meningie seems like another universe now. The open sky, the dry…