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Saleen Grace

Riddle

“Hello…sorry I’m a little late.” The caretaker of the house said, breathing heavily.


“I’ll only forgive you if you can answer my riddle.” Sara replied.


“Okay, shoot.” He chuckled and said.

“Imagine there’s a killer in your house standing in front of you with a knife. What would you do to save yourself?”

“I don’t know, maybe call the police.” He relied casually and Sara laughed at his response. “Wait - What is the answer?” He asked.

“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.” She said, leaving the man confused.

"Okay, these are the keys and if you need anything you can always contact me." The caretaker smiled, gave the keys to Sara and left.


Sara smiled and went inside the house, took a deep breath and began exploring her new home. She unpacked her stuffs and placed a typewriter on the desk. Suddenly the doorbell starts to ring and she sighed. She opened the door and found a woman and her son.


"Hello, we are your neighbors and wanted to welcome you here." She smiled and introduced herself and her son.

"What is your name?” She asked.

“I’m Sara, nice to meet you.” She smiled and offered her to enter.

“What do you do? I mean are you a student? You look so young.” She asked.

“Oh…no, I’m a writer.”

“Hi." Sara said to the boy with a smile ,"What’s your name?”.

The boy smiled and said “Max.”

“Nice name, young man.” She ruffled his hair.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked.

“Of course.” She replied.

“Why is seven afraid of eight?”

Sara pretended to think and shrugged her shoulders.

“Because seven eight (ate) nine.” He said laughing at his own joke.

“Nice…” Sara replied ,“Can I ask you a riddle too?” the boy nodded.

“Oh…he loves riddles and all.” His mother said.

"Roger was running on the streets at night, he sees the light and dies, how did he die?"

The woman gasped and dragged her son outside. The girl smiled and closed the door.


That same night the boy ran into the street to rescue a rabbit and was run over by the car. The girl smiled and began to sing: "It comes by day, it comes at night. Everything you write comes to life." And stopped typing.

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