A Thump in the Night
Jane was awake in bed, late at night, alone in her tightly locked country home. "THUMP," a noise came from downstairs - the garage?
"Perhaps it is an animal," Jane speculated... until remembering the garage was closed. She caught her breath. What could have made that noise? Could there be an intruder? She did not want to call the police over a silly noise.
Quietly, she slipped out of bed and crept down the stairs, careful to make no sound. She peered around each corner, afraid even breathing would make too much noise. At the threshold of the garage, she held her breath as she cracked open the door. Quiet blackness greeted her. She flipped up the light switch.
A single pink rose lay on the doorstep, a card beneath it, her name written on the envelope. Jane's heart skipped a beat when she recognized her ex-boyfriend's handwriting. As she bent to pick up the flower and card, a shadow fell over the step. She looked up just in time to see a stranger before a large arm wrapped around her, a hand covering her mouth. Blackness consumed her.
Her Secret (a Drabble)
There once was a man who always complained. He married a pretty woman who rarely complained. The man was poor but he worked hard and made a good life for his family. Still, he was always miserable and complained about whatever went wrong in his life.
His wife who shared his life, however, seemed always content no matter how poor they were or how difficult their circumstances. No adversity they ever met unsettled her. One day the man asked the secret to her happiness.
She smiled, "How could I not be happy when you are mine? I love you."
Foxglove
“Hey,” Julie greeted, entering the house. Recently departed from her apartment due to a rent raise that she could not afford, the portly bartender felt lucky to have found Tracy’s ad for a female border.
Tracy looked up from the kitchen sink where she was just finished arranging a vase of foxglove. She loved to grow the tall stalks of trumpet-shaped, purple flowers. They were so pretty and made such nice cut flowers for the house.
“Oh, hey,” she answered as she placed the vase on the kitchen table then returned to the counter to begin another. “How was work today? Did you tell everybody how good my enchiladas are?”
Trying to make a living as a photographer, Tracy had decided that beginning a startling rumor was a good publicity stunt. Touting her cooking was groundwork for that rumor and who better to start it than a bartender?
Home for a couple of hours before the dinner shift began, Julie took off her shoes to rub her sore feet. She apologized, “Sorry, I forgot again. It was really busy today.”
Tracy grimaced displeasure for a moment. Then relaxed her face and sighed, “How am I supposed to start my rumor if you aren’t going to tell everybody how good my cooking is?”
“Oh! Is that why you want me to talk about your enchiladas?” Realization dawned on Julie. Tracy had not said why she wanted people to know her enchiladas were good.
In the few weeks they had been living together, Tracy had brewed several fun but mildly crazy ideas for publicity stunts and Julie, wanting to be friendly, had been encouraging of them. It was kind of fun to have a nutty roommate and Tracy was quite a likeable character, but it was never really Julie’s intention to take part in her craziness.
“Of course!” Tracy answered, as if her intent was obvious. “We need to feed people information slowly so they can come to their own conclusions. Otherwise, it won’t be a good rumor and it won’t spread.”
Shaking her head from side to side, Julie could not help but breathe some sanity into the situation, “Tracy, nobody is going to believe you killed your ex-husband.”
Tracy’s eyes widened briefly as realization dawned on her. No wonder Julie’s memory kept “failing!” She contradicted, “But I almost did.” Then she clarified, “After he started eating dinners out with his mistress, he still came home and ate leftovers from my fridge. The only reason I didn’t poison them is I had two kids at home.”
Julie insisted, “Nobody will believe it. You’re too sweet.”
Tracy’s response was instant, her objection prepared. Still trying to persuade Julie of the viability of her idea, she protested, “But you said crazy people are always the nicest!”
“That’s true,” Julie admitted. She remained resolute, “but crazy does not mean criminal and people won’t believe it.”
Tracy’s shoulders dropped. Her hands flopped to her sides. This conversation was over and there was nothing she could do to change its outcome. Her new housemate did not intend to help spread the rumor. She could just kiss this idea good-bye. She picked up the second vase of foxglove, wiped water off its bottom with a dish towel and proceeded down a hall toward her daughter’s bedroom.
Nineteen years old, Kim was home from college to enjoy the summer. When she was not working her summer job or out with friends, she was usually either sleeping or playing RPG’s. When Tracy knocked on her door to change out the flowers on her desk, she had just started a new game.
“Kimmie,” her mom complained, “Julie says nobody will believe that I killed your dad.”
At the sound of her mother’s voice, Kim turned in her desk chair and saw the vase of freshly cut foxglove in Tracy’s hand. One of the deadliest poisons known to mankind, her mother had been using it in floral arrangements for as long as Kim could remember. It made a lovely display …and its ground leaves made a convenient poison for sweet ladies to lace into “special” blueberry muffins left in the fridge for philandering husbands.
Kim confirmed, “You already knew that.”
Vocabulary Index
Halloween Fire
approach emerge fumble install peer present reflect spine surprise verdict
The Choice
realize hence complete
A Thump in the Night
consume creep peer recognize speculate
Her Secret
adversity miserable circumstances
Foxglove
clarify portly grimace tout contradict stalk resolute relaxed confirm shift arrange insist depart persuade intend convenient confirmed display obvious proceed conclusion remain character
Efran Myles Vocabulary Builder Titles:
Halloween Fire & Other Shorts
Fantasy
Of Avalon e-series:
The Last Day (Free download!)
Book 2 Coming Soon!
The Legend of Lord Randall Castle e-series:
Engaging Enchantment
Spellbound Souvenir
The Legend of Lord Randall Castle - Coming soon!
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Of Avalon
Book 1, The Last Day
[Excerpt]
Before the rending apart of science from magic, the island of Avalon was sinking for more than a thousand years. This was due in large part to the conflict between physics and enchantment in the druidstone (known to scientists as Muscravite) which ran through the core of the island’s sole mountain.
Through the generations, Avalon’s druid population progressively migrated away from their homes to new homes on the larger landmasses of Albion, Hibernia and other parts of Europe. They moved in villages as the sea water swallowed shores in its climb toward the temple atop Avalon’s mountain – the temple in which King Arthur rests to this very day.
To this same temple, a wizard by the name of Lord Randall came to study the art of magic in all its forms and transcribe the druids’ many books on the subject, for druid priests were known to be the world’s foremost masters of magic. In exchange for sharing their magical knowledge with him, he promised Avalon’s protectors, the dragonlords, a new home in his family lands.
He commissioned them to bring dwarves from his homeland in the Albion highlands to m
ine Avalon’s mountain for druidstone. The excavated stone was then cut into blocks, enchanted with a powerful spell of forgetting and sent to Lord Randall’s family lands, where it was laid by the dragons transporting it into a castle like none the world had ever seen.
At the end of this age, when rising water touched the gates of the last inhabited village, the final stones of the castle were set. The dragonlords then went with Lord Randall and the descendants of his dwarf allies (for dwarves are created of the substance of magic so are unaffected by the life prolonging properties of druidstone) to their new home.
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