Tag Archive: night


What do you remember?

As seen on wikimedia all rights to the owner

The night was sharp. I have no better way to describe it. It looked like it had been cutaway from the daylight by a painter’s knife with short sure motions. 

I could focus on little else.

Driven to distraction it wasn’t till my fingers started to burn from the icy wind that I looked away from the heavenly Bob Ross. Summer sunsets are beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but there is some kind of eery otherworldliness in crisp winter night skies. 

Once inside I turned off the TV and put a kettle on to boil, the image had me in the mood for strong tea and dark silence. So I watched the red-orange flames lick out alive waiting for the hiss of steam.

I held the mug with both hands soaking up the minty warmth, but the tension in my shoulders refussed to drain away. Something in the night nagging at the periphery of my attention. The house was quite, the door was locked, I closed my eyes willing the edges of my frayed nerves to lie flat…

I startle at the sound of a man clearing his throat sloshing piping hot tea onto my right hand.

“Ma’am can you tell me what happened,” he asks a look somewhere between pity and suspicion in his eyes.

“Happened? What happened?”

He checks a notepad while I look around the small uncomfortable room. It has dingy short pile carpet, a table with coffee cup rings, and hard molded plastic chairs. The man makes direct eye contact, only suspicion this time, “What do you remember?”

“It was sharp,” his eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling, “the night was sharp.” I elaborate, “the sky had this look like it was painted, you know what I mean? Too many straight edges…sharp-like.”

“That’s what you remember?” 

He’s incredulous.

“What about the fire? Do you not remember the fire?” The man is very nearly yelling at me.

I consider what he has said, thinking back, trying to remember. Like a reflex I take a sip of tea, “I made tea.” I offer holding up the mug.

He stands and walks to the door. Quick quiet words are exchanged with someone I cannot see. “I just handed you that tea ma’am,” he says while walking back to the table, “you don’t remember anything.” This time it’s a statement not a question.

“The night was sharp and otherworldly.”

He looks at me so hard he looks through me. The pity is back in his eyes.

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A lifetime of night

As I rose in the dark a small part of me felt relief.  The dark was… familiar by now, almost comforting.  A lifetime of night had left me always drawing back from the light, in fear, rather than inching forward, but my family could never know that.

“I wish it would have worked darling, I want you to truly see me.”

I smile my crooked smile in response unable to say the truth, I do not want to see you in that way, because, “I’ve always truly seen your heart dear, and that’s more then enough for me.”

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As seen on curtishallblog.com

This is a 100 word challenge for grown ups (100WCGU).  The prompt is …as I rose in the dark…

You get 100 words plus the prompt.  To submit your own take on the prompt follow this link.

The only night

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Diana Spelton lives at 1331 Blackburnian Way.  She is a newspaper enthusiast who receives the Journal and the Times in addition to her local edition.  She reads the local rag first over her morning coffee which she most commonly enjoys in her east facing rocking chair.  Then after a brief, 10 to 15 minute, shower Diana savors the Times along with her obligatory toast and jam.  The Journal she saves till last.  Tucked neatly between her elbow and slender waist it makes the 192 steps to her bus stop only to be read and recycled before she switches on the desktop in her cubical.  She eats her lunch beneath a small tree which flowers in the spring and turns orange in the fall.  For dinner Diana keeps the TV company till her seemingly mandatory 10:30pm bedtime.  Then 1331 Blackburnian Way goes dark till Diana opens the green front door to slide her white terry clothed arm out for her papers.  The only variation to this routine is Halloween night.

My name is Dwight Menders.  Diana moved into the neighborhood three years ago, and since that moment I have been drawn to her.  Too shy at first to walk up and start a conversation I positioned myself so we could ‘bump’ into each other multiple times per day.  I hoped that we could start a conversation organically rather than the scripted typical interactions I had with people.  But that never happened, she never even noticed me.  No polite smile, how’s the weather, nothing.  I didn’t exist.  She couldn’t see me, but I saw her.

It’s me who places her papers neatly upon her door step.  Me who jogs ahead pressing the cross walk signals so she never has to wait.  Me who brushes her tiny bench beneath the tree free of trash, debris, and loiterers.  Me who shares her laughter at the nightly scripted comedies.  Me who keeps vigilant watch over her as she sleeps.  And it is me who beneath the Halloween mask buys her drink after drink as she sits in her sexy costume on the bar stool. 

The only night she allows herself to drink too much.  The only night she sees me.  The only night I get to do more than just watch Diana through the invisible glass that separates my world from hers.  The only night she never remembers.

*******Happy Halloween!*******

This is my attempt at a scary story, hope it had at least a little bit of a creep factor 😉  I wanted to write something that if told in the dark around a campfire might make you look over your shoulder, and nothing gives me the heebie-jeebies like a watcher you never know is there ! 

So I ask you what’s your favorite camp fire story or creeps you the heck out?

A Better Question

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Davey's view

Heavy was the right way to describe it Davey thought to himself as he allowed a shallow breath past his parted lips.  Almost like it was water he thought as he lifted his right hand.  The resistance Davey felt in the empty night filled space above the arm of the rocking chair was foreign to him.  Turning his hand palm up he slowly rubbed his fingers together.  Collecting in minute beads a viscous liquid started to puddle in his cupped hand.  Davey’s eyes went skyward using the moon for illumination he could see…something.  Just a wisp of fog his brain reasoned, but the hair at the nape of his neck rejected that thought immediately standing on end.

The many childhood hours Davey had spent soaking up Hollywood’s post apocalyptic possibilities surfaced shouting for him to not leave the semi-safety of the covered porch, but tonight was about answers.  Since there was no burring sensation where the dew like droplets of oily liquid condensed he ruled out acid rain, still deciding on some iota of caution he pulled his shirt over his nose before walking out into the night.

Only a few steps and he could already feel the heat leaving the valley.  Growing up in the mostly dry climate of the desert Davey knew how fast the heat would drain back out of the sun baked rocks departing as if it had never been there leaving a chill that was hard to shake.  As the mercury plummeted the wisps in the air turned to more of a foggy haze, but rather than rising from the recently hot ground like steam it seemed to be sinking. 

Frozen in place, torn between the porch and the high ground he was walking towards, Davey noticed the watery light of the full moon catch in the mist throwing eery rainbows into the inky shadows.  Before he could react the dense cloud settled over him.  The greenish tinge of the fog gave everything the appearance of being viewed through night vision goggles,  but it was the weight of the fog which increased as its haziness gave way to opaqueness that Davey found the most disconcerting.

Within seconds he found himself face first in the dusty sand choking on the stifling cloud, his eyes streaming, every inch of him listless.  The lethargy made Davey almost not care that he had asked the wrong question, what instead of how, but then he heard the groan of the fog pressing down on his rocking chair and he smiled a drowsy smile.  He had his answer, if only he had thought to ask a better question.

Reader Note:

This is a continuation of my story A Heightened Sense of Things I hope you enjoy it!

A Heightened Sense of Things

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Michael Dressel~12 Night Poarch

As the night crept in, seeping into all the nooks and crannies where the light hid, Davey knew he should be leaving.  Knowing, though, had never been the same as doing not for David Sawyer.  So though it was foolish and risky he waited out the night.  He sat back in his mother’s favorite rocking chair savoring the croak and groan of the old and weather warped rails.  The sounds rose and fell in time with the rocking motion of his sneaker clad feet.  With the touch of his toe, croak, as he rocked back onto his heel, groan.  Davey couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his somewhat gaunt and angular face.  He was serenading the moon he thought to himself, beckoning the danger to come ever closer. 

Still he sat and rocked.  As the daredevil within was celebrating its victory and his common sense took a breather alone and forgotten in some shadowy corner. 

With something almost as physical as a pop it was night.  The twilight had smothered the last embers of yet another dimming day.  Then Davey stopped, mid rock, and waited.  His merriment gone, his life on pause, even his breath held.  Waiting. 

For more than a decade David Sawyer had run and hid as soon as the sun set to one of the many safe zones, where nothing could penetrate.  Where they were safe from chemical, physical, or even psychological attack so They said, but what They never said was why the safe zones were even necessary.  Years of eating up Their indoctrinated propaganda like it was life sustaining, and not once asking a question.  Because the threat was real… because the night was emanate… because logic said why would They lie?

So tonight David was channeling Davey the younger devil-may-care version of himself which had existed before the safe zones and the mindless fear.  Tonight he would know one way or the other if his lemur like behavior was warranted.  As the night air pressed in on him heavy with humidity and possibility Davey felt no fear only a heightened sense of things.

The Hunt

His eyes were focused on one thing only, even among the crowd.  Her eyes danced quickly around the room trying to hide the fact that she was nervous, but to him it was so obvious.  Taking his time he snaked his way over to her seat at the bar, and leaned over to relay his order to the busty blonde that only seemed to have time for the male customers.  He used the excuse to brush against the nervous girl’s arm.  She noticed him in a quick glance which while assessing didn’t necessarily mean interested.  He smiled to himself as he shook his head slightly, nervous and hard to get.  Perfect.  While he waited on his drink he leaned against the bar and looked out at the overcrowded dance floor which was awash in strobe lights, manufactured smoke, and glistening bodies of both sexes.  Busty tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.  Drink in hand he reached past the nervous girl’s shoulder to leave his tip in the giant margarita glass.  “What are you doing,” he asked her as she turned sharply due to his second venture into her personal space.

“Think I’m supposed to be asking you that,” she said as she straightened her back away from the bar and his outstretched arm.

He just smiled and dropped his folded ones into the glass, “No, I meant why are you here?”  He backed up a step after he asked the question to make her lean into him in order to respond.

“Excuse me,” she asked still sitting straight backed on the stool clearly meaning that he should go fuck himself.

Not missing a beat he continued, “Well you’re not here to dance,” he motioned with his glass, “you’re not here for the drinks,” he pointed to her bottled water, “so why are you here?  The Hunt?”

She thought for a second and then finally leaned in, “Did you say the…hunt?”  She ended her question with a real laugh not the giggly shit drunk girls do to be ‘cute’.  “No I’m waiting for someone,” she said as her eyes landed on a tanned, brunette, in a glittery tank top on the dance floor.  He followed her line of sight and nodded.

“Oh… I see, she’s hunting and called you in for support.”  He rested his elbow on the bar moving maybe half a step closer to her, “How’s that going?”

She opened her mouth to retort shook her head and started over, “Is this you hitting on me?”

His grin split his face nearly in two, “No this is me rescuing you,” he said while motioning for her to look past him.  Sure enough there were at least four guys all paying very close attention to the pair of them.

“Shit,” she cursed under her breath spinning the stool so she faced the bar not the room.

“Rookie mistake,” he said as he leaned in closer, “the girls who want to be bothered sit at the bar the uninterested ones find a table.”

“Thanks for the tip,” she said while craning her neck looking for a table.

“All in a days work, Rookie,” he said as he lifted his glass in salute she just smiled and walked over to the friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~¥~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sat in his booth just off the dance floor and waited.  Sure enough the Rookie walked by, no doubt in search of her much needed table.  He drained his glass and waved for the nearest waitress catching Rookie’s eye at the same time.  Both approached him.  “Rum and Coke,” he said to the girl with the tray, “and Rookie flat or sparkling water for you?”  The girl turned and waited hip out and impatient.

“Long Island Iced Tea.”

“Are we starting to trust one another Rookie?”

“I wouldn’t think so as we don’t even know each others names, but I think its customary to buy a lady a drink when hitting on her.”

“Touche, Rookie.  Though I thought we had established you weren’t here for the Hunt.”

She stayed standing non pulsed. “Alright, alright I was going to hit on you but you weren’t into it, at all I might add, so I gave you a little friendly advise,” he finally offered.

“Well I call bullshit on that as you must have noticed there are no empty tables, but you just happen to have a seat I could use.”

“A little presumptuous, Rookie…”

“Alicia,” she said as she pointed her finger at him.

“No, Cai,” he said pointing to himself and laughing.

She rolled her eyes and sat down opposite of him. “So tell me how this works,” she said as the drinks were set down on the table.

He handed the girl a $50 and waved her away. “If I were you I would go for the straw, more lady like,” he said as he tipped his drink back glee in his eyes.

“No…”

“However you want it to,” he said seriously as he set down the drink. “I bought you exactly one drink, you don’t owe me anything. The way I see it we have three options; you sit and watch your friend we don’t talk, you sit and watch your friend we talk, or we go back to pretending the friend doesn’t exist and see what happens, which I might add seems to have been her plan.”

Alicia looked over at her friend dancing with some young Grecian god then back at Cai. Cai was in a word breathtaking, his dark hair was cut into one of those seemingly effortless but only from a professional styles, he was at least 6’2″, tone judging from the way his shirt stuck to his chest and arms, and he had eyes dark enough to get lost in. She took a deep breath, a sip of her ‘tea’, and went for it “You have the most gorgeous eyes.”

“I believe that was my line, Rookie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~¥~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The conversation flowed so easily that Alicia didn’t realize how much time had passed till her phone whistled for her attention. Smiling an apology she reached in her bag to silence it. Before she found it, disabled the ringer, and dropped it back in her bag Cai had moved to her side of the booth.

“Did I read that right is it 12:01 in the morning,” Alicia asked looking down at the table for the first time in what must have been hours, as two empty ‘tea’ glasses were pushed off to her left hand side and one three quarters full sat by her right. She blinked her eyes rapidly as the strobe lights kicked into full gear, “God where did the time go?”

Cai just smiled at her, brushed her dark blond hair off her shoulder, and traced his finger along the delicate curve of her clavicle till it met with the flimsy strap of her cotton sun dress. He leaned in closer as if to whisper something in her ear and instead planted a kiss at the junction of her neck and shoulder. The kiss so soft and gentle brought goose bumps up everywhere on her peaches and cream skin and, in direct opposition, ignited molten fire just south of her navel. Noticing Alicia’s shiver Cai wrapped his arm around her, his thumb moving in lazy circles on her shoulder, and locked eyes with her.

“You say something Rookie I got distracted,” he said with a wolfish grin.

“Um,” Alicia tried to remember why the time had been so important, but with Cai so close it was impossible to think of anything other than his eyes, his lips, or his hands.

“Good, because I think talking is over rated,” he said as he kissed her full on the lips his free hand moving from her neck back through her hair. The fire gave way to tingles running up and down every one of Alicia’s nerve endings. She felt herself shift in his arms and press herself tighter against him moaning as the kiss deepened in passion. Cai’s hand fisted in her hair pulling her head to the side allowing him to kiss his way down her bare shoulder.

It suddenly occurred to Alicia that they were in a very public place and as such should maybe consider heading home, but as she started to pull away from Cai his grip strengthened. His breath against the sensitive nape of her neck caused her to freeze in place, “Don’t worry no one ever notices,” he chided as he leaned Alicia back against the booth exposing a smooth creamy expanse of skin from her neck to her cleavage. The mix of fear and desire caused her heart to race and her breath to come out in quick gasps. His right hand fell from Alicia’s shoulder into her lap and moved to the hem of her dress. As he drug his nails gently against the silky skin of her inner thigh she sighed and a flush crept up her neckline.

Cai released his hold on Alicia and sat back as if nothing had happened. Panting in the corner of the booth she watched him finish his drink before he looked her way again. She never said a word, lost again in his intense gaze, but her eyes pleaded with him as they flashed in the changing light. It was all the invitation he needed. Cai’s tongue stoked her all ready high libido, but he drew back just long enough to see Alicia’s eyes had dilated with pleasure. He tilted her head back and kissed the crook of her neck. She groaned in ecstasy as his kiss turned to a biting fire which burned through her till she shattered a million different ways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~¥~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He left her alive but spent. Smiling at the thought of his Hunt Rookie sitting there in her yellow cotton dress. The only evidence of their encounter would be the blood stains on her sweet-heart neckline, and the sweet taste of her on his tongue.

The Storm

Haley sat in the dark listening to the howling of the wind just beyond the glass. Mesmerized, she follows the flick and dance of the flame along the wick of a lone candle in the nearly empty room.

A sharp crack followed by crystalline crunching sounds suggested that yet another tree branch had fallen from the heavens.

She was nothing more than a darkened silhouette outside the circle of soft golden illumination, frozen in place, deaf to the shattered silence. Haley leaned in, over her crossed ankles, to stare into the bright yellow-red center of light. This close to the candle you could see it; the pain and worry in her eyes, the tension taunt across her hunched shoulders, and even the tiny tremors that rattled her frame.

Finally, she looked away, from the twisted spark, towards the door and the soft ticklish sound of heavy snowfall. Haley’s arms wrapped tight around herself, chafing what little warmth she had into them, as the loneliness and fear set in.

For as the candle light shrank and the dark deepened all she could do was wonder … and wait.

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