Pronounced as one letter, And written with three, Two letters there are, And two only in me. I'm double, I'm single, I'm black, blue, and gray, I'm read from both ends, And the same either way. What am I?
I look flat, but I am deep, Hidden realms I shelter. Lives I take, but food I offer. At times I am beautiful. I can be calm, angry and turbulent. I have no heart, but offer pleasure as well as death. No man can own me, yet I encompass what all men must have. What am I?
There is a bus full of people travelling over San Francisco and no one gets off the bus throughout the journey. But when it gets to the other side there is not a single person left. How is this possible?
I am two-faced but bare only one, I have no legs but travel widely. Men spill much blood over me, kings leave there imprint on me. I have greatest power when given away, yet lust for me keeps me locked away.
A husband was called by the police telling him that his wife was killed and that he should get to the crime scene as soon as possible. Shocked, the husband dropped the phone and drove to the crime scene in 20 minutes, where he was arrested and charged for murder. How did the police know it was him?
The police told him to get to the crime scene, but they didn't specify where. The husband couldn't have known where the crime scene was unless he'd been there when the wife was dead or dying.