Tracks, a short story : Part 2

Now everything is silent. My whole body feels as if it belongs to somebody else. I am disconnected, my senses feel short-circuited. As I open my eyes it seems to make no difference. There is still no vision, all is black.

The heaviest silence that I have ever experienced is also surrounding me, and I feel as if I am floating. The one sense that seems to be functioning is smell. There is a strong smell of, something. I am having trouble putting my finger on it. It is earthy, moist, dead.

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Tracks, a short story : Part 1

It was a joyous feeling, knowing that you were the first one to pass this way. There were no tracks to be seen. He had been walking for a while now, and even though the snow was fairly fresh he would have thought that somebody would have been this way by now.

He wasn’t an early bird, although he often wished he was, and it was already 10 am. Usually another walker or jogger would have been here before now. But, no, there were no prints of any kind, neither human nor animal.

The forest path ran straight off into the distance and he loved the feeling it gave him. It was as if he could see into the future and gain comfort that he knew that everything was going to be OK.

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All Debts Must Be Paid : Short Story

How did I end up with such a weirdo for a landlord? Why couldn’t I have got the nice old lady who would bake me the occasional cake? That’s what Ben got. Me? I got the ghost. I call him that because of the permanent grey pallor which he displays. It gives me the creeps every time I see him. If I have to talk to him I can feel the cold sweat begin to form on my forehead even as I approach. And now this. The rent is due and my account is empty. A lack of planning has caused an imbalance in the cashflow situation. So I have to ask for an extension from Mr Friendly.

Standing outside his door gives me a sense of dread like no other. Whenever I have to visit, which is infrequently, just knocking on the door takes an extreme act of will. When he opens his door it is always just a crack, he obviously prefers to conduct business on your threshold rather than his. Every time I have knocked on his door I have sensed something, like a chill, and this time is no different.

Once he opens the door I explain the situation. I have always been a good tenant, this is a one off situation, it will never happen again. He nods, but then shakes his head.

“All debts must be paid,” he says, “somehow.”

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Hidden Within: Short Story

Wandering the streets, searching for some different images to capture. I have walked this way so many times, that it seems pointless. Then I realise that I have never stopped for any length of time here. It is such a weird and wonderful image, how could that even be possible? So one day I did, I took the time to take it in, not just to make an image, but also to let my imagination wander. What could this be? What alternative purpose could it serve? In another world, or perhaps in this one? And, so, a story began…

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Mr Tibbins : Short Story

Mr Tibbins could never understand people. They all rush around stuck in their own little world, having no idea what that world really is. They don’t know because they don’t want to. It is easier that way. Some people, like him, can see. Is it a gift? Or is it a curse? He has never been able to decide. There are certainly times when blissful ignorance seems like a blessing.

He feels tired today. An old man, out of breath and lonely. Some days are like this now, his energy reserves seem to desert him at times. Maybe they are only finite and one day he won’t be able to call on them. But, until now, they have always been there when he has needed them. A feeling like electricity runs up the back of his neck and he knows that one of them is near. Looking around he can’t see anything untoward.

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