|
This is where we'll put our archives.
Here is a portion of my new story "There's a Ghost in the House." Because of space I had to pick exerpts from the prolog. If while you are reading it you find errors email me, I would appreciate it. I only have the prolog and first chapter to date, and that is the first draft.
In rural Indiana, in the year nineteen sixty-five, stood a large Victorian house. The house was built in the early nineteen hundred's and very well maintained over the years by the various inhabitants. Dr. and Mrs. Winthrop owned the house now and lived there with their son Buddy. The good doctor operated his practice out of the front part of the lower level while the family lived in the back and upper level. The oversized living room was used as reception area/waiting room. A long podium style desk was situated to the right of the front door and three quarters of the way to the west wall. The desk stood three and one half feet and was six feet long. It was the domain of the nurse/receptionist, and where she did the necessary paper work needed to run a thriving practice. The remainder of the room was filled with two sofas, several chairs, and a couple of tables piled with magazines frequently found in offices of doctors and dentists. The kind no one reads until they find themselves in a place they do not want to be, and then out of boredom, or perhaps apprehension, they thumb through one after another in the hopes that it will quell the anxiety. -------------This day in early June started just like all of the others, by the doctor receiving his first patient at precisely eight o'clock am. Anna, the new nurse/receptionist, opened the door exactly as the clock struck eight o'clock, not one miute before or after. -------------Marie got her son Buddy, out of bed and dresssed at about the same time as Anna opened the door that fateful morning. -----Lessons began every morning after breakfast, between eight thirty and a quarter to nine. Lunch is always at eleven and then Buddy is allowed to go outside to play for forty-five minuets to an hour. Since the neighborhood children are in public school at that time of day, Buddy has to play alone. Jessie Kincaid, the gardener, knowing the pangs of loneliness himself always takes his lunch at the same time the boy comes out. ----Marie knows of the arrangement and a gardener isn't her first choice as a playmate for her son, but she allows the friendship to continue. -----While Buddy was playing Marie took the time to catch up on some correspondence. Buddy had been outside a little over an hour when she realized what time it was and went to the door to call him. "Buddy!" No answer came. "Buddy!" Buddy still did not answer, so she stepped outside and called again. "Buddy do you hear me?" Hearing no reply she stomped down the steps and onto the lawn, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Justin Winthrop you had better answer me." There was anger in her voice, but also a little fear. "Buddy! I'm not playing. You had better come out from hiding this minute." Franticly her eyes swept the yard, turning to the swing set, hoping to see the tosseled brown wind swept hair as his swing makes the downward thrust of the pendulum before starting the upward climb. The swing was moving slightly but the source of movement was the wind, Buddy wasn't there. ----------Something terrible has happened to her baby, she could feel it. Her mothers' intuition went into hyper-drive, causing all kinds of horrifying thoughts to explode inside of her brain. A knot was forming in the pit of her stomach. The tentacles of fear began spreading throughout her body until it blossomed into panic. Turning, she headed back inside the house. "Hubert! Help me Hubert. Please help me. Something has happened to Buddy." Buddy did not answer then, or ever agin.
| 
