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Stories I’m working on

These are bothering me and so here’s a little bit of each one – three so far and for all I know they’re connected. They just get stuck in my head until I get them out. Sorry to bother you all. 

Late at night I hear it

The click, clack, click clacking of someone sliding a stick along the wrought iron gates. They hit every bar on both sides of the gate with a slight pause in the noise when they stop and stare at the gate longingly. The gate was at such a distance it was impossible to make out any details of who they were or where they may be from. Each time I looked though I felt unease. Sometimes I swear they were staring right at me from my hiding spot, but how could they know about it I had concealed it perfectly… and letting my imagination roam that they might see me from this distance but I couldn’t see them – preposterous.

Click, Click, Click, Clack, Clack, Click

Each night it seemed to awaken me and keep me up – I couldn’t not focus on the noise. I tried to imagine it as some old assembly line noise and drift off to dream but there was no escape, the click, clack, click would just be there again to rouse me from my sleep. Before dawn I’d find peace – they seemed to no like the light and I always felt a bit safer near the gate.


Some type of mystery

How did they know about the snifter – the trap was for me and somehow they knew that intimate detail enough to set the trap. She was stunned that someone would have wanted her to be poisoned but even more shocked that it was someone that knew she had a snifter each night when she returned home. She looked around the room at those she trusted most dearly and saw nothing to give way to whom it might be. She shivered in her own skin though the room was warm enough. Someone was trying to kill her and she had to just find a way to survive the night.


Alien invasion? weird stuff I don’t know it’s warped in my head

The family stood on the shore waving in their little hands – having freshly regrown them after the alien attack now they waved other to safety. The wee hands on adults was creepy and i didn’t want to look, this is what I would become – i knew the process was just slow but for a month or more you’d be walking with little wee hands on your adult body. Mine was a different problem – my teeth had been extracted. With the same regrowing technology it was a simple matter to get them to burst again – but in the mean time it looked like an evil little grin when I smiled and the lack of solidity kept my lower jaw looking mushy.  Vanity, in this day and age seemed so silly – I was lucky to be alive with the others and I was worried about how i might appear amongst the other monster and malformity.

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