The old house on the edge of the farm has been empty for many years. Some say it is haunted; others say it is cursed. The wooden door is locked. Keeping its stories inside.
***
When city folk Jim and Alice bought the farm, they fixed up the cabin for their hired help to live in. They placed an ad in the local paper seeking someone who enjoyed working with horses. Gladys, a strong, buxom, mature woman was the first person to respond. They proudly showed her the spotless house with the smell of fresh paint and the glow of polished linoleum. Gladys took the job and moved in the next day with her seven cats. They enjoyed the run of the farm. The cats were not too popular with Alice, however, when they jumped up on the picnic table and ate the cream cheese dip she had put out for her croquet party guests. Gladys was warned to keep the cats in the cabin. She was good with the animals but had her own ideas about how to do things. After several disagreements with Jim, she packed her meagre belongings and left a note tacked to the barn door with a forwarding address to send her last cheque.
It appeared Gladys was unfamiliar with the concept of a litter box. Alice scrubbed the floors thoroughly and left the doors and windows open for days to get rid of the acrid smell of cat pee. She believed she could still smell it years later.
The next ad included “No pets allowed”. A university student with a love of horses became the next resident. She was young and eager and did a good job. Her light could be seen on late into the night, studying. Occasionally a young man spent the night. Jim and Alice didn’t mind. Better than cats! One day she told them she was moving into town with her boyfriend.
The house was much easier to clean up this time although there was candle wax on the floor. Alice shuddered at the thought of candles burning in a wooden building.
Against Alice’s advice, Jim hired a writer with a bushy beard. She just didn’t trust men with bushy beards. He slept until noon every day and only did the very basics of the job. Days went by without fresh food and water for the animals. He was soon asked to leave. They took two truckloads of empty wine and liquor bottles to the recycling store. Alice didn’t say anything but had that “I told you so” look on her face.
Two women in cowboy hats, big belt buckles and fancy boots seemed interesting enough to be hired. Jo and Jean had been in the rodeo circuit for a time and knew a lot about horses. They had great stories to tell and would sit around the picnic table with Jim and Alice sharing a cup of tea and reminiscing. One day Jo approached the house in tears; Jean had left in the middle of the night. Jo said she didn’t know how she could go on without the love of her life. Alice had never seen anyone so upset. She made her a cup of tea and tried to calm her down. Two days later Alice had to call the paramedics when Jo attempted suicide. Alice and Jim hired someone to clean up the blood.
A couple in their forties showed up with the job posting in hand. The meek wife made no eye contact and let her husband do all the talking. He seemed capable. Jim liked him.
Alice had a funny feeling and said, “She looks like a battered wife.”
Jim said,” You watch too much Oprah.”
Things went well. The chores got done and the couple kept to themselves. Jim decided this was the best they had ever had. Perhaps Alice should admit she was wrong.
One peaceful, sunny day while washing the dishes, Alice looked out the kitchen window and thought she saw someone hiding behind the big apple tree. Sure enough, it was a man – with a gun. Alice tensed. There was another man behind the car shed who put a megaphone to his mouth.
“This is the police, come out with your hands raised and no one will get hurt.”
The husband emerged from behind the barn and ran toward his truck. Both police officers were on him in an instant. Alice never imagined she would witness an arrest in her backyard.
The police officers explained they had had an anonymous call to the farm. The husband was known to them and had two previous charges of assault. After they took him away, Alice knocked on the door to the cabin. When no one answered she opened the door and went inside. The wife sat on the couch sobbing, while holding her head and rocking back and forth. Alice offered to call an ambulance but the woman insisted she was all right and that her sister would be there soon to pick her up. Alice couldn’t stop shaking for days.
A cast of thousands paraded in and out of that old house over the years.
Eventually, Jim and Alice agreed to sell up and retire. Except for a few items left behind, the building has stood empty ever since.
***
A chipped bookcase leans against one wall holding up dusty paperbacks, left by someone who could not bear to throw out a book. A beaten-up trunk remains in a dark corner, one item too many to be allowed on the next journey. A moth-eaten blanket, an assortment of old newspapers and a cowboy belt wait in vain. A rusty wrought iron headboard covered in spider webs holds secrets of amorous nights and lonely days, extreme happiness and deep sorrow. A poster of Edward Munch’s “The Scream” hangs on a wall where it surveys the scene with wide-eyed wonder, and silently shrieks.
On windy, rainy nights, some say you can hear sobbing. Others say they hear a hideous laugh. Children say the house is haunted. But don’t children always say that?
A perfect short story by Pam at https://butterflysand.com/ for Valentine´s Day, featuring a Maine coon cat. If you´ve read Amanda in England: The Missing Novel, you might recall the Maine coon Rupert in the book. Enjoy! Happy Valentine´s Day to all.
Madeline stood across the street for a moment thinking about what she was about to do. She had always considered herself an intelligent woman; she had a good career and a lovely new home. She believed that she was mildly attractive. And yet, she was lonely. Her divorce had come through a few weeks ago, just before a job offer here, in what for her was a new town. She had no family and no friends nearby. Essentially, she was starting her life over. Alright, she thought. Change is in the air. Let’s do it! She squared her shoulders and crossed the street to the Pet Adoption Agency.
When Madeline entered, a young woman behind the desk immediately looked up and smiled. A huge, tabby, feline-like creature also looked up, yawned and promptly went back to sleep. Upon closer inspection, it was indeed just a very large cat. He…
Editors Note: I am in a writers group with John here on Costa Blanca. Before each meeting, we get different prompts in case we don’t know what to write about. This week the prompt was: “My hands shook with anticipation.” What John wrote in response to the prompt was so funny that I laughed until I cried. That’s why I wanted to share it with my readers. This piece of writing should really brighten your day. Enjoy!
Young people kissing
By John Dodd
April 1961, and there I was, in the little store room under the school hall stage, with Rosie Trawler. An acne-ridden teenager, I knew so little about girls. Yes, my Dad had told me that when a man and a woman love each other very much, they lie down together and make a baby. Fat lot of help that was. Everything that we spotty boys knew…
Our tree is decorated and we are gearing up for Christmas, so I want to share a wonderful story by a writer friend of mine. Whatever your beliefs are, it’s a story that never grows old. I love her realistic take on this age-old story.
Christmas Story by Sue Champion
Mary stepped into the night with trepidation. She felt chilled in the evening air. The donkey ride had not exactly been comfortable in her condition but was grateful she did not have to walk.
Horrified when Joseph told her they had to go to Bethlehem to register for the census. She would have given anything to have stayed at home with her mother to have the baby. It was only when Joseph read the scriptures to her, which foretold that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem, that she understood it was God’s plan, and she must go with him.
Nevertheless, it was scary being in a strange town with nowhere to stay, knowing her baby was due very soon. Joseph had many relatives in Bethlehem, and he was confident one of them would have a room for them. Most greeted Joseph warmly, but when they saw Mary, they seemed embarrassed and turned the couple away. Of course, they knew Joseph had been betrothed for some time. They had all been to the engagement party, but they also knew that no wedding had taken place.
At last, one cousin had compassion on them and took them in, but was very sorry all his upper rooms in the house were full, as with this census, many travellers wanted accommodation. However, he offered them the lower part of the house where the animals were kept. By this time the couple were grateful for anything and thanking him, they agreed. There were bundles of hay to be used as a bed, and he lent them a couple of thin blankets.
That night the baby came. There was no midwife, only Joseph. No clean towels or hot water, and only one of the animal’s feeding troughs to use as a cot. Yet, when Joseph eventually placed the child on her breast, she felt an astonishing sense of joy and love. The couple looked at each other in helpless wonder, the baby was crying, messy, covered in straw, not unlike a newborn lamb might be. Could this really be the Son of God?
Joseph went outside for some fresh air, looked up, and was amazed to see an unusually bright star right above the house. He then saw some shepherds approaching, and wondered where they had come from. They came right to the door of the room. One of them told Joseph that they had been in the field minding their sheep when an angel of the Lord appeared to them and told them to go worship the child, whom they would find by following the star above. The star now shining above this very house.
Joseph let them in. Mary had used one of the blankets to wrap the child and had laid him in a manger. Joseph gazed at the scene and imagined he saw an angel kneeling next to them. He thought he heard him say, “Fear Not”.
Susan Champion, December 2021
Bio:
Sue Champion spent most of her childhood and a considerable amount of her adult life in Africa. This is reflected in many of her poems, for as anyone who has lived in Africa knows, the continent steals a part of your soul. She only began writing after retiring to Spain, where she joined a writers group and discovered a love of writing, especially poetry.
Sue has written a heartfelt book of poetry called Prayer, Praise and Poetry which can be found on Amazon.uk.com
This book is for anyone aged nine to ninety plus. Dip into it at any time of day. Read it quietly or out loud. Let it uplift you. It would also make a great gift.
Here is my review:
A wonderful collection of contemporary poems, written from the heart. Each poem holds its own story and addresses many topical issues. It is a perfect book to pick up and open at random. Every time I do, the page speaks to me. Like when I read, “Storms Never Last.”
The book is divided into sections such as Praise, Our Planet, On a Lighter Note, War, Kids, and Bereavement. It ends with a moving poem, “Tribute to Nelson Mandela” and a lovely piece, “Wild Swans” in honour of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II on her 90th birthday. And finally, “Why Write?” which will ring true to most writers or those who wish to be.
This feel-good book of poems should be on everyone´s night table.
I am very happy to present a guest post from the lovely Darlene Foster. Blogger, and published author of the popular ‘Amanda’ series of books, Darlene is from Canada, and lives in Spain.
Babies and Blizzards
By Darlene Foster
I remember when my brother, Timothy, was born. It had been a typical cold and snowy prairie winter with blizzards creating impassable road conditions. Mom expected the third member of our family to arrive in early February. Dad was concerned that the inclement weather might stop him from getting her to the hospital sixty miles away, when the time came. So he took mom and my younger brother, Lorne to stay with our grandparents in the city well before her due date. Since I had school, I stayed with my great-aunt and great-uncle in the small town near our farm.
I was excited about this as I loved Aunt Elsie and…
My 100 word story is being featured on the Magic of Stories. Perhaps you have a 100 word story you would like to share on this great blog. It is a good exercise, try it!
Following up on my previous post I am reblogging a post by Geoff LePard that explains the fundraiser contest. I’ve started writing my 99 word story based on the prompt. I hope some of you will join in as well, in whatever way you can.
Yes it’s here. it’s a lovely idea and it’s got a prize attached. Read on…
It’s time to saddle up and get in line, because the Sue Vincent Rodeo Classic is happening NOW at the Carrot Ranch! Writers will have the opportunity to support Sue Vincent, a stalwart center of our blogging community, as well as compete for a $100 prize! That’s right – we’re trying to make this the biggest writers’ Rodeo yet and celebrate Sue Vincent’s work and writing in the process. On the Rodeo Classic page, you can find a beautiful photo (from none other than Sue herself) to serve as a prompt. Write a story of 99 words or a poem of 99 syllables – no more, no less – based on the prompt photo on the Rodeo page. Also on the Rodeo page is an entry form where you can put up to two entries for the contest. And don’t worry, entries will be anonymized – everyone’s on an equal playing field at the Carrot Ranch, even if you get some TUFF bulls to ride or horses to break! But don’t lollygag – you only have until February 19th to get on your bull and ride out the chute.
There are many ways to participate in the rodeo. Every Rodeo has multiple events, and the Sue Vincent Rodeo Classic is no different. In addition to participating in the contest and donating to the cause, we have multiple events you can participate in!
The Sue Vincent Reblog Barrel Race – Check out Sue’s website or the website she shares with Stuart France. Find a poem, essay, or photo that speaks to you, and re-blog it. Feel free to include links to the contest and make sure to include a comment on the re-blog!
The Great Book Parade – Buy and read one of Sue’s books. If you’re feeling adventurous, leave a review or publish it on your blog!
The Comment Riding Contest – The prize for this one is a fuzzy good feeling and the sharing of community. Like and/or comment on Sue’s posts, whether new or old.
Snack Stands – Share the contest on other social media such as Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, or others! You can definitely follow Sue Vincent on Twitter.
The Prize Ceremony – Winners will be announced on March 21st, 2021. It could be you, but even if not, come see what Sue’s prompt invoked.
Some of you may have read this story before. It is included in an anthology of winning stories and poetry from twelve authors who took part in Stevie Turner’s ‘Share Your Short Story’ monthly writing competition, which ran from October 2017 to February 2020 on Stevie’s WordPress blog. All royalties from book sales are donated to Cancer Research.
The Bright Lights of Christmas by Darlene Foster
Ten presents this year, the best year ever. Cory Henderson’s eyes sparkled as he dropped to his knees and studied his precious pile of parcels wrapped in festive paper. Santa Clauses, reindeer and snowmen smiled back at him as he pulled out his gifts and lined them up. His mother wanted him to go to bed, but he continued to count his gifts under the tall Christmas tree covered in a profusion of bright lights and glittering ornaments.
“Just a few more minutes, please Mom,” he begged, excited as most nine-year-olds on Christmas Eve.
He counted the packages once more while arranging them under the tree with care. One from Uncle Bob; he always gave good gifts, usually something to do with sports. Two from Grandma and Grandpa; always the best because they seemed to know exactly what he wanted the most. One from Mom and one from Dad; since he´d thrown some pretty good hints around the last two months, some super stuff from his list were sure to be in those packages. One from his older brother, Scott, away studying in China; he always sent cool stuff. The old couple across the street, who he did errands for, dropped off a small package. One from Aunt Margaret and Uncle Joe, another from his cousins Jim and Jeff and an odd shaped one from his best friend, Jerry. Yup, ten presents for him to open tomorrow morning.
He wasn´t sure he would be able to sleep at all when his mother finally convinced him to go to bed. But, a bright light in his window woke him up from a dream of opening hundreds of presents. At first, he thought it was a light from Santa’s sleigh. Then, he thought a space ship might be nearby. Getting out of bed and tiptoeing to the window, he could see it was not Santa’s sleigh or a spaceship causing the bright light. Flames engulfed the house next-door. Never having seen a fire that close before, he found it scary and exciting at the same time. Mesmerized, Cory stared at the brilliant flames leaping out of the roof.
All of a sudden, he remembered that two little boys lived in that house. The family moved in two months ago. They came from another country, spoke with an accent and kept to themselves. The boys were younger than him, about five and seven.
Maybe the people were still in the house. His tummy did a flip-flop. Just as he heard the wail of fire trucks, he saw two hooded figures run out of the front door. As they reached the sidewalk, he realized two adults covered with blankets, carried a child each. The blankets appeared to be wet when they dropped to the ground. The family stood shivering in their pajamas, staring at their home ablaze.
Cory ran out of his room calling, “Mom! Dad!”
His parents, already up, frantically pulled coats out of the closet.
His dad threw a jacket his way. “Hurry, put this on and go outside. And stay well away from the fire.”
By the time they got outside, the fire department arrived. In no time, long hoses sprayed water onto the flames. Cory’s mom handed out warm coats. He noticed the little boys wearing his parkas from last year and the year before. Even with them on, they shivered.
Heavy smoke filled the air. It smelt weird. Kind of like the time his mom burnt the chicken and the smoke alarm went off. Soon the fire was under control and it started to snow.
“Mom,” said Cory, “maybe we should all go into our house and get warm.”
His mom nodded and motioned everyone to follow her.
She made hot chocolate and put out gingerbread cookies they made the day before. The neighbours, Mr. and Mrs. Zafrani, spoke quietly. The boys, Omar and Jamal, didn’t say anything. Their large brown eyes stared at the big Christmas tree covered with twinkling lights and sparkling ornaments. Beds were made up for everyone, the little boys in his brother’s room and their parents in the spare room. As the boys were about to go to bed for the remainder of the night, they took one more look at the tree and cried.
“There, there,” said their mother as she hugged them. “Don’t cry. At least we are all safe and warm.” She thanked Cory and his parents and they all went to bed.
Cory felt a sick feeling in his stomach. Christmas Eve and their tree and all their gifts probably burnt. They would have no presents to open in the morning. How awful. He tossed and turned in his bed. How would he feel if it happened to him? Now he really couldn’t sleep and no longer looked forward to the morning either. How could he open all those gifts when they had nothing?
Then, he had an idea, jumped out of bed and put on the light. He pulled out some coloured paper, a pair of scissors and Christmas stickers from his desk drawer. Two gift tags made, he wrote Omar on one and Jamal on the other. He stopped for a minute and then made two more. Tiptoeing into the dark living room, he pulled out four of his gifts from under the tree. Without looking at the tags, he replaced them with the new tags. Corey went back to bed and fell asleep with a smile on his face.
The next thing he heard was his mom saying, “Wake up. It’s Christmas morning. Omar and Jamal are up already.”
Cory never slept in on Christmas morning. He ran into the living room. Dad had plugged in the lights on the tree and turned on the fire in the fireplace. The room looked cozy and warm. Jamal and Omar stared at the tree as if they had never seen one before. Cory reached under the tree.
His mom gasped and said, “Maybe we could wait to open the gifts.”
Ignoring her, he handed a gift to each of the spellbound boys.
The oldest boy read out his tag. “To Jamal. From Santa.” His eyes grew wider.
“Open it,” said Cory, hardly able to contain his excitement.
Jamal carefully removed the wrapping from his gift as if he were undressing a baby. His round face beamed when he discovered a PlayStation.
His dad looked at Cory and raised his eyebrows. He turned to Omar holding onto his gift like it would disappear if he loosened his grip. “Don’t you want to see what is in your package?”
The young boy ripped the package open and produced a huge smile as he pulled out a baseball glove. “I love to play baseball!” He slid his left hand in and punched his right fist into the mitt.
Cory’s mom looked over at her son with tears in her eyes. “I think you deserve to open one of your presents, dear.”
Fun and laughter filled the rest of the morning. Cory loved all six of his gifts, but he would never forget the smiles on the faces of those little boys as they discovered gifts under the bright, shiny tree for them.
He learned the real meaning of Christmas that year.
Here is my story included in the anthology With Love Comes Hope which I wrote about here
Lockdown With Anne by Darlene Foster
It’s day ten of the lockdown and I hate it. At first, I thought it would be great not to have to get up early and go to school. But Mom’s not very good at home-schooling. She loses patience with me and she doesn’t know anything about math. I miss my friends. Sure, we connect on Instagram, but it’s not the same. I missed two birthday parties already. By the time I get to wear my new top, it probably won’t fit anymore. My pajamas are wearing out. I’m tired of Mom’s cooking and wish we could at least get a take-away. This lockdown sucks big time.
I’m bored with TV and I’ve watched all the DVDs we have. I didn’t think I would miss school. Maybe I’ll check out a book my teacher gave me to read the last day of school. She said I would like it.
~~~
Wow! Midnight and I’m still reading. This book is so good. It’s about a girl, Anne, who’s thirteen years old, like me. She has to hide in a small apartment during World War II in Holland, along with her family. They are actually German so you’d think they’d be OK but they are also Jewish. If the Nazi soldiers find them, they will be sent to a concentration camp and most likely killed like so many other Jewish people.
It isn’t just Anne, her parents and older sister living in this hidden annex, which nobody knows about. They’re sharing the place with another couple, their son and an old man. Anne makes friends with the couple’s son, Peter. But, here’s the thing, they can’t make any noise during the day because there are people working downstairs in the office and warehouse. They can’t even flush the toilet. And, they have to keep all the windows closed and the curtains drawn.
How awful. No fresh air or sunshine. I would go totally crazy.
When Anne turned thirteen, just before they had to go into hiding, she got a diary for her birthday. So, to keep herself busy while in isolation, she writes in it everyday. She actually wants to be a writer one day. She writes things like “I hope I shall be able to confide in you completely, as I have never been able to do in anyone before, and I hope that you will be a great support and comfort to me. “ She names her diary Kitty because she has no girlfriends to talk to.
I am so loving this book. There are even pictures of the rooms and the bookcase that hides the stairway to the secret space. It’s called TheDiary of a Young Girl and is a true story written by Anne Frank.
~~~
I finished the book and I’m so sad. In the end, after two years of hiding and being very careful and quiet, someone tells the soldiers about them. They are found and taken away. Anne doesn’t survive. In fact, her dad is the only one who lives. After the war, he comes back to the building, finds her diary and has it published. So her dream of becoming a writer did come true, but she doesn’t live to see this happen.
~~~
It’s day fourteen of our lockdown and Dad says it will be another two weeks at least, probably more. Many people are getting sick and dying. I don’t want to die. I want to grow up and get married and have kids. I want to go to Holland and visit Anne Frank’s house.
I’m doing my homework online and not arguing with my mom as much. Yesterday we made chocolate brownies together and then we all completed a huge jigsaw puzzle. It was fun.
And, we can make noise. I can sing as loud as I want and even go in my front yard and make dance videos. At eight o’clock every evening, we all go on our terraces or balconies and clap in appreciation of the healthcare workers, police, ambulance, firefighters and grocery store staff for keeping us safe and well.
I don’t have to be afraid I’ll be taken away because of my religion. This lockdown sucks but it is so much better than what Anne Frank had to deal with.
I will get through this.
With Love Comes Hope, filled with a variety of fiction and nonfiction stories, would make a great Christmas gift.
This book can be purchased in print or digital format on most Amazon sites.
Pete has done it again. I sent him a picture of the house my great grandfather built over 100 years ago and it prompted him to write a fabulous story. I didn´t tell him the house was in Alberta until after.
When she split up with Joanne, the first thing Carrie wanted to do was to get out of Vancouver. She put in to the RCMP personnel department for a transfer to anywhere, and it wasn’t long before Alberta was offered.
Edmonton, somewhere she had never been. She accepted it without a second thought, and told them she would stay in a motel until she found an apartment to rent.
It was an Inspector’s job with the detective branch. Most of the others were well established already, and she knew she wouldn’t get anything high profile until she proved herself. After a couple of weeks getting used to the place, and settling in, Carrie found a decent apartment, then set about getting on with the job. She arrived early…
Darlene Foster's Blog 