There was nothing scary about old Mr Taylor. He was my friend until he died last year. All the other kids used to creep around, wanting a glimpse of the old man. Then once sighted, would run away screaming and laughing.
“Did you see him? I told you he is ugly and scary”.
Yes, he had lumps on his face and hair that grew out of his ears. Yes, he grumbled in response to those who shunned him. But really, he was kind-hearted and lonely. We waved when we saw each other, and if I was alone and had some time, I would sit and listen to how it used to be in the old days.
I found the basement hatch and knew how to open it. I turned my flashlight on in the dark as I ascended the stairs.
“Hello Jake”, said Mr Taylor smiling. “It’s been a while.”
Thanks Chrispina for the prompt. I had fun writing this.
Word count 150.
photo by J. Hardy Carroll
There were stories of ghosts in the old brewery. And they are true. Men who used to work there, who had fallen into the hops, suicides and murders. There was painting inside, done with blood it looked. Of stars like you see in horror movies, with candles. Some nights you can see lights inside. They dared me. I didn’t want to go in.
“You’ll be alright,” they said. “You can join our gang if you do.”
They hid behind the naked trees.
They never came to help when they heard me screaming.
Now it’s me they tell stories about.
Genre: Horror. Word Count 99
The air is cold tonight.
I felt it as I arose from my bed.
I wandered around for a bit;
Tried to pee but couldn’t
Looked in a fridge but wasn’t hungry
On my way back to lay down again
I pulled at a stubborn weed but it wouldn’t be uprooted.
I slipped beneath my earth covering, lay down and patiently waited for the smell of roses that I knew my wife would bring in the morning.