Great short story read by talented, fellow Gypsy Author, G E. Stills Not just for Hallow's Eve...
http://leeanngraffvinson.blogspot.com/2012/03/my-review-of-witch-and-squirrels.html
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Sunday, March 4, 2012
The Witch and the Squirrels
My newest book The Witch and the Squirrels is avaliable now at
Gypsy Shadow publishing and many fine retailers.
Excerpt
“See you in a few days,” he told his relief and then left the firehouse. When he walked out of the building, he glanced up at the ominous-looking clouds.
Wow, that storm is coming in fast.
Just a short time earlier, the sky had been clear. His pace quickened.
Good thing I don’t live far away.
His thoughts moved to the fire earlier. Luckily, they had been able to contain it. Even though the building and the business inside were a total loss, there’d been no deaths and only one fireman slightly injured.
Lost in thought, he didn’t even notice the house until a flash of lightning lit the entire structure. His feet left the sidewalk seconds later at the horrendous crash of thunder. Another flash. This time, he saw it strike the lightning rod on top of the house. The entire structure stood out in the sudden brilliance. The thunderous roar didn’t take him by surprise this time. Even so, it almost split his eardrums.
And damn close. Seeing it hit the rod and thunder coming moments later, alerted him. Too damn close.
Instinctively, he ducked his head to run, despite his training which advised against fast movement. A third bolt hit the rod. In the bright illumination, he thought he saw a pretty face, surrounded with madly swirling long red hair, silhouetted in an upstairs window. Then the image was gone, lost in the sudden darkness as the early evening became pitch black.
The heavens opened and the deluge began. He broke into a fast run but even so, only a few paces farther he was soaked to the bone. His clothes clung to him, water dripped from his hair. With a sigh of relief, he stepped into the hallway of his apartment complex. Only when he had stripped his wet clothes, dried off and put on warm sweats, did he think of it. What were the chances of lightning hitting that house, not once or twice, but three times, in seconds? Wow.
He thought about the face in the window. That had to be my imagination. No one lives there.
Just as quickly as it had arrived, the storm passed. The moon and the stars came out. Weird weather. His thoughts came to a screeching halt, when someone knocked. He suppressed a groan, when he opened it to see Jerry, standing on the threshold.
“Hey buddy. Storms over. Get ready. We’re going to the club.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of going there?”
Jerry cocked his head. “Are you kidding? With all those females promenading around? Not a chance.”
To his dismay, Jerry squeezed by and parked on the couch to wait.
“I just got home. Haven’t even eaten yet.”
“Then we’ll stop and get a burger.”
Damn, Jerry has a ready answer for every excuse I can muster.
Wow, that storm is coming in fast.
Just a short time earlier, the sky had been clear. His pace quickened.
Good thing I don’t live far away.
His thoughts moved to the fire earlier. Luckily, they had been able to contain it. Even though the building and the business inside were a total loss, there’d been no deaths and only one fireman slightly injured.
Lost in thought, he didn’t even notice the house until a flash of lightning lit the entire structure. His feet left the sidewalk seconds later at the horrendous crash of thunder. Another flash. This time, he saw it strike the lightning rod on top of the house. The entire structure stood out in the sudden brilliance. The thunderous roar didn’t take him by surprise this time. Even so, it almost split his eardrums.
And damn close. Seeing it hit the rod and thunder coming moments later, alerted him. Too damn close.
Instinctively, he ducked his head to run, despite his training which advised against fast movement. A third bolt hit the rod. In the bright illumination, he thought he saw a pretty face, surrounded with madly swirling long red hair, silhouetted in an upstairs window. Then the image was gone, lost in the sudden darkness as the early evening became pitch black.
The heavens opened and the deluge began. He broke into a fast run but even so, only a few paces farther he was soaked to the bone. His clothes clung to him, water dripped from his hair. With a sigh of relief, he stepped into the hallway of his apartment complex. Only when he had stripped his wet clothes, dried off and put on warm sweats, did he think of it. What were the chances of lightning hitting that house, not once or twice, but three times, in seconds? Wow.
He thought about the face in the window. That had to be my imagination. No one lives there.
Just as quickly as it had arrived, the storm passed. The moon and the stars came out. Weird weather. His thoughts came to a screeching halt, when someone knocked. He suppressed a groan, when he opened it to see Jerry, standing on the threshold.
“Hey buddy. Storms over. Get ready. We’re going to the club.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of going there?”
Jerry cocked his head. “Are you kidding? With all those females promenading around? Not a chance.”
To his dismay, Jerry squeezed by and parked on the couch to wait.
“I just got home. Haven’t even eaten yet.”
“Then we’ll stop and get a burger.”
Damn, Jerry has a ready answer for every excuse I can muster.
Thanks for stopping by my friends.
Gary/G.E. Stills
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