The exercise:
Halloween comes to an end with: the conclusion.
Sorry, I don't have anything more creative than that. Hey, maybe if I'd planned things out, at all, I would have something better for us all to work with. As it is... here we are. Do what you can, all right?
Helped with the move for another four hours this afternoon. Taking a break to do Halloween things with the kids tomorrow, then I might be back up there Tuesday afternoon. The rest of the week has already filled up with other commitments, so I'm not sure if or when I'll be helping again after that.
What I do know, however, is that I need to figure out a way to wrap up my story for this week. So I'm going to try to do that now. I hope you've enjoyed the week and that my ending doesn't let you down too much.
Edit: sigh, sleep won again last night. Sorry.
Mine:
Officer Blackstone sat behind the wheel of his squad car and waited impatiently for his rookie partner to complete his inspection of the old Monroe property. Even though it had been years and nearly a dozen owners since the Monroes had lived there, everyone in town still referred to it by their name.
After what happened to their children, how could anyone think of it otherwise?
Blackstone drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and studied the neighboring houses. The call had come from one of them, supposedly. Somebody heard screams coming from the abandoned house during the night but hadn't phone d it in until morning - such a good, concerned citizen. No wonder they'd refused to identify themselves.
"Superstitious idiots," Blackstone muttered. He had no time for talk of ghosts and hauntings and zombie movies and vampire books.
Of course, he had made Officer Blaylock check things out. And he did keep the engine running.
Officer Blaylock emerged from the weeds masquerading as a front lawn, walking a little faster than was dignified for an officer of the law. Blackstone frowned but said nothing as the kid climbed into the passenger seat.
"No signs of forced entry and both doors are locked tight," he reported while staring straight ahead. "I looked in the windows but didn't see anything out of place."
"Probably a prank call," Blackstone said with a shrug and put the car into drive. "It's not quite Halloween, but I guess somebody wanted to get an early start on the festivities this year."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"What is it?" Blackstone paused with his foot hovering over the gas pedal.
"It's just... I dunno. It was faint... but there was a stink about the place. Like, really nasty."
"Oh, that," Blackstone said as he swung the car into traffic and accelerated away from the old Monroe place. "That's always there."
Showing posts with label Halloween Week. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Halloween Week. Show all posts
Saturday October 29th, 2016
The exercise:
The penultimate entry into Halloween Week shall revolve around: protection.
Some people we know just moved from Vancouver to take over a B&B up on the mountain and they needed some help with their heavier boxes and furniture, so that's what I did for most of today. They're paying me for my time, which I appreciate... especially considering how much stuff they have.
The view from up there is spectacular. Will try to share a picture tomorrow. Right now me tired so go night night.
But first...
Mine:
"Here, let me try," Ryan said, eager to play the role of knight in shining armor to Angie's damsel in distress. He got a good grip on the handle, braced himself, and yanked as hard as he could.
The door didn't move.
The house began to fill with whispers once more.
"Back door?" Angie didn't wait for a reply - she was already running for the rear of the house. Ryan chased after her without thinking, only knowing that he did not want to be alone within those walls.
The whispers grew steadily louder.
Angie slammed into the back door shoulder first. She may as well have been a feather for all the impact she made.
"You gotta unlock the deadbolt!" Ryan shouted. The whispers had transformed to yelling in their ears.
"It's stuck!"
They covered their ears as they stumbled back into the kitchen. There was panic and fear in their eyes when each of them looked to the other for direction. The voices were howling now.
"What do you want? Ryan screamed in desperation.
The house fell silent. Then:
"Daddy?" It was the voice of a young girl, cautious and curious.
"Yes?" Ryan said. Angie glared at him. He could only shrug and grimace in response while hoping for the best.
"Mommy?" A young boy this time. Ryan gave Angie a we're in this together now look and nodded his encouragement at her.
"Hello?" Angie's voice was hoarse, her throat dry. "Yes... sweetheart?"
"Mommy!" The two voices together. "Daddy!"
"We're here," Ryan said, a smile coming to his lips, relief in his voice. "It's okay, we're here."
"You were supposed to protect us." Confused and uncertain. "You were supposed to keep us safe."
"I... we did our best," Angie said, her eyes searching the darkening kitchen for movement. "We ne-"
"Why didn't you protect us?" Fear. And anger. "Why didn't you keep us safe?!"
The penultimate entry into Halloween Week shall revolve around: protection.
Some people we know just moved from Vancouver to take over a B&B up on the mountain and they needed some help with their heavier boxes and furniture, so that's what I did for most of today. They're paying me for my time, which I appreciate... especially considering how much stuff they have.
The view from up there is spectacular. Will try to share a picture tomorrow. Right now me tired so go night night.
But first...
Mine:
"Here, let me try," Ryan said, eager to play the role of knight in shining armor to Angie's damsel in distress. He got a good grip on the handle, braced himself, and yanked as hard as he could.
The door didn't move.
The house began to fill with whispers once more.
"Back door?" Angie didn't wait for a reply - she was already running for the rear of the house. Ryan chased after her without thinking, only knowing that he did not want to be alone within those walls.
The whispers grew steadily louder.
Angie slammed into the back door shoulder first. She may as well have been a feather for all the impact she made.
"You gotta unlock the deadbolt!" Ryan shouted. The whispers had transformed to yelling in their ears.
"It's stuck!"
They covered their ears as they stumbled back into the kitchen. There was panic and fear in their eyes when each of them looked to the other for direction. The voices were howling now.
"What do you want? Ryan screamed in desperation.
The house fell silent. Then:
"Daddy?" It was the voice of a young girl, cautious and curious.
"Yes?" Ryan said. Angie glared at him. He could only shrug and grimace in response while hoping for the best.
"Mommy?" A young boy this time. Ryan gave Angie a we're in this together now look and nodded his encouragement at her.
"Hello?" Angie's voice was hoarse, her throat dry. "Yes... sweetheart?"
"Mommy!" The two voices together. "Daddy!"
"We're here," Ryan said, a smile coming to his lips, relief in his voice. "It's okay, we're here."
"You were supposed to protect us." Confused and uncertain. "You were supposed to keep us safe."
"I... we did our best," Angie said, her eyes searching the darkening kitchen for movement. "We ne-"
"Why didn't you protect us?" Fear. And anger. "Why didn't you keep us safe?!"
Friday October 28th, 2016
The exercise:
Day 5 of Halloween Week would like to know what happens: when night falls.
Worked the 5 to 9 closing shift at the community centre this evening. Went pretty smoothly, other than having to kick the pickleballers out of the gym so that I could go home at the end of the night.
When I got home Kat was watching something on the computer, so I ended up writing this entry by hand. As a result, it got a little long...
Mine:
"So how did you end up here?" Ryan asked. They were sitting on opposite sides of the island in the kitchen, a plate of overcooked pasta in front of each of them. The curtains had been drawn to avoid attracting the attention of any of their neighbours - not that any of them would have been keeping an eye on the property. It was late afternoon by then but neither of them had done much more than poke at their food with their forks.
"I worked my first shift the first night I came into town," Angie began before a jaw-cracking yawn cut her short. She'd given up on trying to sleep several hours earlier. "I was chatting with a waitress at that diner I told you about. She told me there were a few abandoned houses I could squat in until a room opened up for me. Her boss wasn't coming in until noon so she let me nap in his office for a couple hours. After that I went looking and this was the best spot I found before I had to get back to work."
"And then you moved in the next morning?"
"Yeah. I was so physically drained and sleep deprived that I didn't look around the house at all - I just barely made it under the covers before I was out cold."
"They must have been pretty dusty and musty," Ryan said. "Nobody's lived here for like a year."
"Nah, they were totally fine actually," Angie said and then had to suppress a shudder. "Maybe another squatter had passed through just before I got there?"
"And did laundry before they left? Sure." Ryan didn't bother pretending to believe that was true. "So what are you gonna do now?"
"Now?" Angie said, getting up and dumping her food in the nearest garbage bin. "Go to work. Come back here... probably collect my things and start looking for a less spooky place to hide out. You?"
"Not sure," Ryan said before following her lead. "I think I need some fresh air though. Mind if I walk you to work?"
"Yeah, why not?" Angie said with a shrug. "How about I fix you a drink on me when we get there? As a thank you."
"That sounds good to me - I could use a glass or three of Forget Everything Juice right about now," Ryan said as they headed for the door. Outside the sun dipped below the horizon. "But I'm not sure what I'm being thanked for."
"It's nice to have someone to talk to," Angie said as she reached for the door handle. "I've been pretty lonely since I moved here. Haven't made any friends yet, and even if I had I couldn't exactly invite them over, right?"
She turned the handle and pulled.
The door didn't move.
Day 5 of Halloween Week would like to know what happens: when night falls.
Worked the 5 to 9 closing shift at the community centre this evening. Went pretty smoothly, other than having to kick the pickleballers out of the gym so that I could go home at the end of the night.
When I got home Kat was watching something on the computer, so I ended up writing this entry by hand. As a result, it got a little long...
Mine:
"So how did you end up here?" Ryan asked. They were sitting on opposite sides of the island in the kitchen, a plate of overcooked pasta in front of each of them. The curtains had been drawn to avoid attracting the attention of any of their neighbours - not that any of them would have been keeping an eye on the property. It was late afternoon by then but neither of them had done much more than poke at their food with their forks.
"I worked my first shift the first night I came into town," Angie began before a jaw-cracking yawn cut her short. She'd given up on trying to sleep several hours earlier. "I was chatting with a waitress at that diner I told you about. She told me there were a few abandoned houses I could squat in until a room opened up for me. Her boss wasn't coming in until noon so she let me nap in his office for a couple hours. After that I went looking and this was the best spot I found before I had to get back to work."
"And then you moved in the next morning?"
"Yeah. I was so physically drained and sleep deprived that I didn't look around the house at all - I just barely made it under the covers before I was out cold."
"They must have been pretty dusty and musty," Ryan said. "Nobody's lived here for like a year."
"Nah, they were totally fine actually," Angie said and then had to suppress a shudder. "Maybe another squatter had passed through just before I got there?"
"And did laundry before they left? Sure." Ryan didn't bother pretending to believe that was true. "So what are you gonna do now?"
"Now?" Angie said, getting up and dumping her food in the nearest garbage bin. "Go to work. Come back here... probably collect my things and start looking for a less spooky place to hide out. You?"
"Not sure," Ryan said before following her lead. "I think I need some fresh air though. Mind if I walk you to work?"
"Yeah, why not?" Angie said with a shrug. "How about I fix you a drink on me when we get there? As a thank you."
"That sounds good to me - I could use a glass or three of Forget Everything Juice right about now," Ryan said as they headed for the door. Outside the sun dipped below the horizon. "But I'm not sure what I'm being thanked for."
"It's nice to have someone to talk to," Angie said as she reached for the door handle. "I've been pretty lonely since I moved here. Haven't made any friends yet, and even if I had I couldn't exactly invite them over, right?"
She turned the handle and pulled.
The door didn't move.
Thursday October 27th, 2016
The exercise:
Halloween Week continues with: voices.
Bakery was quite busy this morning, which was a nice change of pace. Time went sailing by in a hurry.
Before I get to my writing, I need to share something. I've been quite upfront with Greg about my dislike of Lady Gaga, though I'm not sure how much of her music I ever actually listened to - I think I was distracted by all the fashion nonsense that always seemed part of the package.
Anyway. I watched this yesterday and was utterly blown away by her performance, in every way. It's lots of fun with some pretty incredible vocals.
I am impressed, and I'm sorry for not giving her a fair chance sooner.
Mine:
"Did you hear that?" Ryan made it sound more like an accusation than a question.
"I must not have closed the front door properly," Angie said, not sounding very confident. "Probably just the wind coming in. I'll go shut it whle you find some clothes. Or whatever."
"Sure, good idea."
While she was gone he dug a pair of reasonably clean jogging pants out of his bag and struggled into them, an unexpectedly early start to his day and a lack of coffee combining to make him clumsy. Downstairs he heard the door open and then slam shut. He found himself smiling with relief when the noise stopped.
And then it returned, much louder than before.
"Get out!"
"Trespasser!"
"Leave! Now!"
"Who's there?" Ryan called, moving to check the windows even though he knew he had made sure they firmly shut before he'd fallen asleep. "Hello?"
"I didn't say anything," Angie said as she reentered the room. "What were you yelling about while I was downstairs? I couldn't quite make it out."
"I wasn't yelling."
The whispers suddenly transformed into shouts.
"How dare you?!"
"You do not belong here!"
"What the hell is going on?" Ryan demanded before pressing the palms of his hands against his ears.
"Is this some kind of joke you're trying to pull on me?" Angie yelled back before doing the same. "This isn't funny!"
The voices grew louder. Clearer. Angrier. Ryan felt a cool draft across the back of his neck. Angie, for the first time since she'd arrived, caught a whiff of the stench that somehow still clung to the walls of the house.
"What the f-"
Outside the sun finally peered over the horizon and the inside of the house fell deathly silent. Angie and Ryan stared at each other for several moments before slowly uncovering their ears.
"Does that happen often?" Ryan asked, his eyes darting around the room.
"Never," Angie replied without hesitation. "But, um... uh... that's, uh..."
"What is it?"
"I've never been here in the dark before." Angie rubbed her arms and didn't make eye contact. "I've always grabbed dinner at an all night place near the club before coming back here, which means I got here right around sunrise. I got my food to go this morning and ate it on the way and... yeah."
"What are you trying to say?" Ryan asked, his eyes filled with suspicion and remnants of the fear that had begun to take hold before the dawn had pushed back the... whatever it was.
"Hey man, I don't believe in ghosts or nothing like that, okay?" Angie said. "But, uh... I don't know if I want to be here after sunset tonight. Just, uh, in case."
"That's ridiculous," Ryan said with a sneer and a shake of his head. Although, if he was being honest, he had been thinking the same thing.
Halloween Week continues with: voices.
Bakery was quite busy this morning, which was a nice change of pace. Time went sailing by in a hurry.
Before I get to my writing, I need to share something. I've been quite upfront with Greg about my dislike of Lady Gaga, though I'm not sure how much of her music I ever actually listened to - I think I was distracted by all the fashion nonsense that always seemed part of the package.
Anyway. I watched this yesterday and was utterly blown away by her performance, in every way. It's lots of fun with some pretty incredible vocals.
I am impressed, and I'm sorry for not giving her a fair chance sooner.
Mine:
"Did you hear that?" Ryan made it sound more like an accusation than a question.
"I must not have closed the front door properly," Angie said, not sounding very confident. "Probably just the wind coming in. I'll go shut it whle you find some clothes. Or whatever."
"Sure, good idea."
While she was gone he dug a pair of reasonably clean jogging pants out of his bag and struggled into them, an unexpectedly early start to his day and a lack of coffee combining to make him clumsy. Downstairs he heard the door open and then slam shut. He found himself smiling with relief when the noise stopped.
And then it returned, much louder than before.
"Get out!"
"Trespasser!"
"Leave! Now!"
"Who's there?" Ryan called, moving to check the windows even though he knew he had made sure they firmly shut before he'd fallen asleep. "Hello?"
"I didn't say anything," Angie said as she reentered the room. "What were you yelling about while I was downstairs? I couldn't quite make it out."
"I wasn't yelling."
The whispers suddenly transformed into shouts.
"How dare you?!"
"You do not belong here!"
"What the hell is going on?" Ryan demanded before pressing the palms of his hands against his ears.
"Is this some kind of joke you're trying to pull on me?" Angie yelled back before doing the same. "This isn't funny!"
The voices grew louder. Clearer. Angrier. Ryan felt a cool draft across the back of his neck. Angie, for the first time since she'd arrived, caught a whiff of the stench that somehow still clung to the walls of the house.
"What the f-"
Outside the sun finally peered over the horizon and the inside of the house fell deathly silent. Angie and Ryan stared at each other for several moments before slowly uncovering their ears.
"Does that happen often?" Ryan asked, his eyes darting around the room.
"Never," Angie replied without hesitation. "But, um... uh... that's, uh..."
"What is it?"
"I've never been here in the dark before." Angie rubbed her arms and didn't make eye contact. "I've always grabbed dinner at an all night place near the club before coming back here, which means I got here right around sunrise. I got my food to go this morning and ate it on the way and... yeah."
"What are you trying to say?" Ryan asked, his eyes filled with suspicion and remnants of the fear that had begun to take hold before the dawn had pushed back the... whatever it was.
"Hey man, I don't believe in ghosts or nothing like that, okay?" Angie said. "But, uh... I don't know if I want to be here after sunset tonight. Just, uh, in case."
"That's ridiculous," Ryan said with a sneer and a shake of his head. Although, if he was being honest, he had been thinking the same thing.
Wednesday October 26th, 2016
The exercise:
Halloween Week continues with: the intruder.
Now I remember why I've never done a theme week leading up to costume and candy day - I don't like mixing Halloween with my birthday. I guess having kids has lessened that a little.
Had a good day. Kat made my favorite fall dinner (carrot soup), Max got a kick out of wishing me happy birthday like twenty times throughout the day, and I brought home some treats from the bakery (chocolate croissants for me and Kat, a coconut macaroon for Max) in lieu of having cake.
All right, it's getting late. Let me figure out the next steps in my story.
Mine:
"Who the hell are you?" Ryan demanded of the pale woman standing at the foot of his bed after sitting up and clutching the sheets to his chin.
"Who the hell are you?" she countered, hands on her hips and eyes wide with indignation.
"This is my house!" He was so distracted by the realization that this statement was far from the truth that he didn't notice the look of panic that flashed across the woman's face. "Well, it's my family's home. That is, it belongs to my family. A member of it. Anyway! What are you doing here?"
"Sounds like you've got about as much claim to be here as I do," she said, sounding rather relieved. "I'm a bartender at a university club downtown, which means I work at night and sleep the day away. I started last week and couldn't find a room to rent, so I, uh... ended up here. Just until I can find a proper home. You know?"
"I see." Ryan studied her for a few moments and decided that he liked her short, messy black hair and ruby stud earrings. He wasn't sure about the wrinkled Mets jersey - or what might be hidden underneath it - but figured he could make up his mind about that later. "I'm Ryan."
"Hey Ryan," she said with a small laugh that relaxed her whole body. She shifted her weight to her right leg and crossed her arms. "I'm Angie."
"Nice to meet you." Ryan moved to get out of bed, then remembered he'd left his pants elsewhere. "Uh, did I steal your bed? The sun will be up any minute, so you can take over now."
"Don't worry about it," Angie said. "I'll take another room for today. We can figure the rest out after I get some sleep in me, all right?"
"Yeah, sounds good. I'll try to be quiet for you."
"I'd appreciate that."
And that was when the whispers began to waft through the house.
Halloween Week continues with: the intruder.
Now I remember why I've never done a theme week leading up to costume and candy day - I don't like mixing Halloween with my birthday. I guess having kids has lessened that a little.
Had a good day. Kat made my favorite fall dinner (carrot soup), Max got a kick out of wishing me happy birthday like twenty times throughout the day, and I brought home some treats from the bakery (chocolate croissants for me and Kat, a coconut macaroon for Max) in lieu of having cake.
All right, it's getting late. Let me figure out the next steps in my story.
Mine:
"Who the hell are you?" Ryan demanded of the pale woman standing at the foot of his bed after sitting up and clutching the sheets to his chin.
"Who the hell are you?" she countered, hands on her hips and eyes wide with indignation.
"This is my house!" He was so distracted by the realization that this statement was far from the truth that he didn't notice the look of panic that flashed across the woman's face. "Well, it's my family's home. That is, it belongs to my family. A member of it. Anyway! What are you doing here?"
"Sounds like you've got about as much claim to be here as I do," she said, sounding rather relieved. "I'm a bartender at a university club downtown, which means I work at night and sleep the day away. I started last week and couldn't find a room to rent, so I, uh... ended up here. Just until I can find a proper home. You know?"
"I see." Ryan studied her for a few moments and decided that he liked her short, messy black hair and ruby stud earrings. He wasn't sure about the wrinkled Mets jersey - or what might be hidden underneath it - but figured he could make up his mind about that later. "I'm Ryan."
"Hey Ryan," she said with a small laugh that relaxed her whole body. She shifted her weight to her right leg and crossed her arms. "I'm Angie."
"Nice to meet you." Ryan moved to get out of bed, then remembered he'd left his pants elsewhere. "Uh, did I steal your bed? The sun will be up any minute, so you can take over now."
"Don't worry about it," Angie said. "I'll take another room for today. We can figure the rest out after I get some sleep in me, all right?"
"Yeah, sounds good. I'll try to be quiet for you."
"I'd appreciate that."
And that was when the whispers began to waft through the house.
Tuesday October 25th, 2016
The exercise:
Yeah, all right - we've got a theme week going on. I was all ready to bail on the idea and then I saw that Greg had jumped in with both feet and I figured it was best to just go with it (though I have absolutely no idea where I'll be going with mine).
Anyway. Welcome to Halloween Week!
Let's see where things go with: the visitor.
Had a productive afternoon while Max was with Kat's parents and Miles was napping. Cleaned up and organized Max's room (long overdue), took in a carload of recycling to the depot, and picked up a few little toys to use for trades with Max for all the Halloween candy he'll get trick or treating that he can't eat.
Probably got a little carried away with that last one, but I was having fun, dang it.
Anyway. Time to figure out what's going on with my week's writing.
Mine:
Ryan had heard through the family grapevine that a distant cousin held the deed on an unoccupied house and had moved quickly to take advantage of the situation. He was down on his luck, as per usual, and the idea of having a proper place to rest his head while he figured out his next move - or at least to perfect his next con - was irresistibly appealing.
He arrived under the cover of darkness, not wanting the neighbours (or anyone, really) to know that he had taken up residence. So, speaking to no locals, he had no chance to be warned away. Not that he would have listened to such nonsense anyway.
It had rained that day, a steady downpour that had turned the dirt in the empty flower beds to mud and the long grass in the yard was doubled over under the weight of the rainwater. By the time Ryan had let himself in the backdoor his sneakers were filthy and his pant legs soaked. Not wanting to create a mess he knew he'd never get around to cleaning, he kicked off his shoes and dropped his pants and socks in the doorway.
The kitchen tiles were cold against his bare feet - colder than he would have expected. He moved quickly through the downstairs, the large backpack slung over one shoulder carrying all of his worldly possessions. The staircase leading to the upper floor was blessedly carpeted but he did not pause to appreciate it. Instead he hurried upstairs in search of the largest bedroom and to scout the location of the nearest bathrooms.
By the time he had decided on his sleeping arrangements he was too tired from his journey to do anything else but crawl under the sheets (which smelled freshly laundered, despite the supposed neglect he had been told about by his brother's wife's stepsister's uncle) and fall fast asleep.
He remained that way until just before dawn, when he was woken by a scream.
Yeah, all right - we've got a theme week going on. I was all ready to bail on the idea and then I saw that Greg had jumped in with both feet and I figured it was best to just go with it (though I have absolutely no idea where I'll be going with mine).
Anyway. Welcome to Halloween Week!
Let's see where things go with: the visitor.
Had a productive afternoon while Max was with Kat's parents and Miles was napping. Cleaned up and organized Max's room (long overdue), took in a carload of recycling to the depot, and picked up a few little toys to use for trades with Max for all the Halloween candy he'll get trick or treating that he can't eat.
Probably got a little carried away with that last one, but I was having fun, dang it.
Anyway. Time to figure out what's going on with my week's writing.
Mine:
Ryan had heard through the family grapevine that a distant cousin held the deed on an unoccupied house and had moved quickly to take advantage of the situation. He was down on his luck, as per usual, and the idea of having a proper place to rest his head while he figured out his next move - or at least to perfect his next con - was irresistibly appealing.
He arrived under the cover of darkness, not wanting the neighbours (or anyone, really) to know that he had taken up residence. So, speaking to no locals, he had no chance to be warned away. Not that he would have listened to such nonsense anyway.
It had rained that day, a steady downpour that had turned the dirt in the empty flower beds to mud and the long grass in the yard was doubled over under the weight of the rainwater. By the time Ryan had let himself in the backdoor his sneakers were filthy and his pant legs soaked. Not wanting to create a mess he knew he'd never get around to cleaning, he kicked off his shoes and dropped his pants and socks in the doorway.
The kitchen tiles were cold against his bare feet - colder than he would have expected. He moved quickly through the downstairs, the large backpack slung over one shoulder carrying all of his worldly possessions. The staircase leading to the upper floor was blessedly carpeted but he did not pause to appreciate it. Instead he hurried upstairs in search of the largest bedroom and to scout the location of the nearest bathrooms.
By the time he had decided on his sleeping arrangements he was too tired from his journey to do anything else but crawl under the sheets (which smelled freshly laundered, despite the supposed neglect he had been told about by his brother's wife's stepsister's uncle) and fall fast asleep.
He remained that way until just before dawn, when he was woken by a scream.
Monday October 24th, 2016
The exercise:
Write about: the horror.
Hmm, if I'd been planning ahead we could totally be doing a theme week leading up to Halloween. Maybe it's not too late? I guess we'll see.
We needed leeks and potatoes for this evening's dinner (leek and potato soup, in case that wasn't obvious) so after lunch I brought Max with me to the garden to get the leeks and then to the root house by Kat's parents house to get the already harvested potatoes.
Kat's mom was doing some work outside and it didn't take Max long to decide that he'd rather hang out with her than go to soccer with me.
So I had a few extra hours of time to myself this afternoon.
Most of which, of course, I spent with Miles.
Because two kids, you guys.
Mine:
A foul stench lingers here. They will tell you that its source is unknown. They will tell you that it is safe here, that you are in no danger while you remain on these grounds. They will tell you not to listen to the gossips and rumormongers and conspiracy theorists. They will tell you that it is only your imagination. That the source left this place a long, long time ago.
They are wrong.
The sort of horror that happened here never fully moves on. It is never forgotten. It never forgets.
Why do you think new owners must be found for this property so often? Not so long ago it was changing hands on a monthly basis. It was almost as though once they began to know the property, to hear its nightly whispers, to see its ghosts, they chose to flee.
Perhaps that is why the sale price goes down with every transaction? It certainly reeks of desperation, I would say.
It seems now, though, that some sort of stability has taken hold. The most recent purchaser has held on to the property for nearly a year. I suspect that has something to do with him or her or whoever not actually residing here. I should think that not having to sleep in that house would alleviate most of the concerns one might have with owning it.
The grounds have become overgrown though. A caretaker was hired but he lasted about as long as the previous owners. In fact, he hasn't been seen around town since he quite loudly and publicly quit his position a few weeks after he was hired.
I'm sure he's just moved away. Nothing untoward happened to him or his dog. I mean, why would it?
Only the stench lingers here. Nothing more.
Right?
Write about: the horror.
Hmm, if I'd been planning ahead we could totally be doing a theme week leading up to Halloween. Maybe it's not too late? I guess we'll see.
We needed leeks and potatoes for this evening's dinner (leek and potato soup, in case that wasn't obvious) so after lunch I brought Max with me to the garden to get the leeks and then to the root house by Kat's parents house to get the already harvested potatoes.
Kat's mom was doing some work outside and it didn't take Max long to decide that he'd rather hang out with her than go to soccer with me.
So I had a few extra hours of time to myself this afternoon.
Most of which, of course, I spent with Miles.
Because two kids, you guys.
Mine:
A foul stench lingers here. They will tell you that its source is unknown. They will tell you that it is safe here, that you are in no danger while you remain on these grounds. They will tell you not to listen to the gossips and rumormongers and conspiracy theorists. They will tell you that it is only your imagination. That the source left this place a long, long time ago.
They are wrong.
The sort of horror that happened here never fully moves on. It is never forgotten. It never forgets.
Why do you think new owners must be found for this property so often? Not so long ago it was changing hands on a monthly basis. It was almost as though once they began to know the property, to hear its nightly whispers, to see its ghosts, they chose to flee.
Perhaps that is why the sale price goes down with every transaction? It certainly reeks of desperation, I would say.
It seems now, though, that some sort of stability has taken hold. The most recent purchaser has held on to the property for nearly a year. I suspect that has something to do with him or her or whoever not actually residing here. I should think that not having to sleep in that house would alleviate most of the concerns one might have with owning it.
The grounds have become overgrown though. A caretaker was hired but he lasted about as long as the previous owners. In fact, he hasn't been seen around town since he quite loudly and publicly quit his position a few weeks after he was hired.
I'm sure he's just moved away. Nothing untoward happened to him or his dog. I mean, why would it?
Only the stench lingers here. Nothing more.
Right?
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