This place is for short stories that change with the passing of days.
Almost Spring
It was surprisingly silent today. I didn’t realize how quiet it was till I heard the sound of a dry leaf tumbling over the road outside my office window. Clikity clack crackle crack. Then I quickly became aware of other sounds; the rustling of the trees, the sound of the bees. Ahh, what a peaceful afternoon. A beautiful clear sunny day and the world seemingly asleep. No children or sirens or cars could be heard only the tweedly dee of a distant bird.
Maybe I need to get my ears checked! I’ve been feeling dizzy lately. But then again, it could also be the old age. After my partner passed away, it’s been lonely. I’m almost 75 and I’m not sure I have much to show for it. I’ve got a canvas that’s been sitting on my easel and it’s been blank for weeks. I stand before it with my brush in hand, but can’t help getting lost in it. Though I haven’t made a single mark, the painting seems more finished today than it ever will.
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Old Man
I found myself late for work (again!), running out the door with my coat halfway on and breakfast gripped between my teeth. I throw my briefcase in the back of the car and quickly bolt into the driver’s seat; put on my seat belt and turn on the ignition in what seems to be record time. I think to myself: Gosh I’ve really gotten good at this. I get the car in gear and right before I hit the gas I see him. There he is again. That old man across the street sitting on his porch starring right at me. His face is so neutral I can’t tell if he’s even alive. That man creeps me out. Doesn’t he have something better to do than sit outside and stare? I hit the gas and rush off to what will likely be another crazy day at work.
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The Devil Keeps me Company
The devil has been keeping me company lately. He is not much of a disruption. He just sits silently across the room and knits a sweater. Sometimes he looks at me with his soul piercing eyes and reveals his mischievous little grin. Then he winks at me. But he seldom says anything. He just goes back to knitting his sweater. No matter where I go, he’s there across the room, knitting his sweater. I don’t know what to make of it, but there’s something comforting about his presence and yet, troubling.
Countless weeks of his presence went by and one night after a horrible nightmare I arose to find that he was gone. I felt heat by my bed-side and looked over and found a small yet bright red ember sitting in a beautifully hand-crafted shallow black cast iron cauldron on my nightstand. It was small and light enough to carry around. I didn’t understand why this was there, or how it even got there. All I could think was that it was some kind of goodbye present from the devil himself. It was a mystery to me.
Days went by and the ember sat there glowing just as bright as it did the first night I found it, intact and unaltered. I became quite fond of it. I loved getting lost in its dancing glow. But it wasn’t long before it started to fade and fade quickly it did. By now I had already become accustomed to it’s presence and its comforting heat so, naturally, I did not want it to go away. In haste, I blew on it, attempting to bring it back to life and it shined brighter than ever. I blew on it once more and a bright yellow flame burst from it. And the flame stayed.
