Tales for the Desperate!
29 October 2007
It was a cold dark night in the olde country town beside the lonely bog. The wind was howling down the lost empty streets and there was a feeling of evil in the air. Bats were high on the wing and somberly silhouetted against a brooding raging moon. A menacing mist wafted lowly and slowly through the town and the man on the radio said in silky nightime tones..."lock up your daughters, lock them up.. for tonight God knows, there is evil in the air"
Indeed there was something evil in the air. I could feel it. Did the man on the radio know something more than he could say? I grabbed the keys from my mantlepiece and ran down the long marbled corridor of the olde dark house and up the winding stairs til I came to their room, to their large hallowed door. I turned the great key in the enormous lock. It resounded with a thud. Clunk, Click, it went. It gave me a safe secure feeling.The daughters were locked up.
Back to the main living room I feverishly went, where Mutt the mutley dog was hiding under the window sill. Was there something disturbing his shivering frame... was he more aware than I. Ghostly noises came from the garden, twigs snapped, footsteps sounded...the windows blew open and rattled and rattled as the mist swirled about us. I begin to shiver with fear, in bizarre tandem with Mutt the mutley dog. I cuddled him for warmth as much as anything else, but we shook together in morbid fear too, if the truth be known.
I dont know, did I drop off, did I fall asleep? I suddenly heard the great main door of this olde house slam and I jumped with a start. I feared the worst. With great haste I dashed to the cupboard and yes...two brooms were gone. The worst had happened. The daughters had joined the bats on the wing. I ran with breakneck speed to the main door in just enough time to see the pair of them silhouetted against the raging moon as they swept away skywards on their individualy designed handmade brooms.
The situation was lost. They were gone. Gone out into the dark night. Gone out to do god knows what. I watched as they raced across the sky on their brooms, seduced horribly by the fantasy world of witches and witchcraft. Where would it all lead!
There was no way to stop them now. I promptly had two or three large glasses of brandy and gave some to Mutt the mutley dog. In the end through exhaustion fear and worry, I succumbed , and fell asleep on the long grey sofa beneath the great gothic window, the one in the east wing, while the pale moon painted my face.
Next thing I knew it was morning. I awoke clutching my head, it felt like blocks were rattling inside a tin drum. As soon as I was awake and aware, I raced to the girls room... turned the key in the great lock, and lo and behold...there they were, sleeping peacefully with flowing locks in the golden morning sun. I was flabberghasted. Had they been there all the time. Had it all been a dream. Or had they been out like bats on the wing.
It was a cold dark night in the olde country town beside the lonely bog. The wind was howling down the lost empty streets and there was a feeling of evil in the air. Bats were high on the wing and somberly silhouetted against a brooding raging moon. A menacing mist wafted lowly and slowly through the town and the man on the radio said in silky nightime tones..."lock up your daughters, lock them up.. for tonight God knows, there is evil in the air"
Indeed there was something evil in the air. I could feel it. Did the man on the radio know something more than he could say? I grabbed the keys from my mantlepiece and ran down the long marbled corridor of the olde dark house and up the winding stairs til I came to their room, to their large hallowed door. I turned the great key in the enormous lock. It resounded with a thud. Clunk, Click, it went. It gave me a safe secure feeling.The daughters were locked up.
Back to the main living room I feverishly went, where Mutt the mutley dog was hiding under the window sill. Was there something disturbing his shivering frame... was he more aware than I. Ghostly noises came from the garden, twigs snapped, footsteps sounded...the windows blew open and rattled and rattled as the mist swirled about us. I begin to shiver with fear, in bizarre tandem with Mutt the mutley dog. I cuddled him for warmth as much as anything else, but we shook together in morbid fear too, if the truth be known.
I dont know, did I drop off, did I fall asleep? I suddenly heard the great main door of this olde house slam and I jumped with a start. I feared the worst. With great haste I dashed to the cupboard and yes...two brooms were gone. The worst had happened. The daughters had joined the bats on the wing. I ran with breakneck speed to the main door in just enough time to see the pair of them silhouetted against the raging moon as they swept away skywards on their individualy designed handmade brooms.
The situation was lost. They were gone. Gone out into the dark night. Gone out to do god knows what. I watched as they raced across the sky on their brooms, seduced horribly by the fantasy world of witches and witchcraft. Where would it all lead!
There was no way to stop them now. I promptly had two or three large glasses of brandy and gave some to Mutt the mutley dog. In the end through exhaustion fear and worry, I succumbed , and fell asleep on the long grey sofa beneath the great gothic window, the one in the east wing, while the pale moon painted my face.
Next thing I knew it was morning. I awoke clutching my head, it felt like blocks were rattling inside a tin drum. As soon as I was awake and aware, I raced to the girls room... turned the key in the great lock, and lo and behold...there they were, sleeping peacefully with flowing locks in the golden morning sun. I was flabberghasted. Had they been there all the time. Had it all been a dream. Or had they been out like bats on the wing.