My Fiction - because I want to!
Snowman
It was a dark and stormy night....my God, how cliche! My one real childhood trauma didn't start that way, but is sure climaxed on that kind of evening. It was like a story straight out of one of those ridiculous tabloid papers! Unfortunately, anybody who has sense doesn't believe what they read in those things, so all possibility for being taken seriously goes right out the window. Hell, I have trouble believing it myself, until the snow falls....
I started my first snowman on New Year's Eve of a year far enough gone to remind me just how mortal I am. After our family had spent much of the holiday season with various family members, my parents decided they needed to spend New Year's Eve alone. They announced that they were going to a hotel in town that was throwing a party, and staying the night. That meant a sitter for me. I was old enough to stay at home unsupervised after school until Mom and Dad got home from work during the week, but a Special Occasion like this demanded the presence of a sitter.
So, while they spent the day preparing every last detail of everything (they were always like that), I enjoyed an unusually warm day by turning the very pack-able snow into my first snowman! With help from my German Shepherd puppy Lancer (my most prestigious Christmas gift), I went all-out; a carrot nose, big button eyes, and sturdy fallen limb for arms. I even went so far as to hollow out the mouth, lined it with landscaping pebbles for teeth, and as a finishing touch, topped it off with a decrepit black stetson that I liberated from the neighbor's garbage. Since I wasn't very tall, its finished appearance resembled that of a white gorilla in a cowboy hat, with arms not quite brushing the ground. I was reluctant to come inside after all that hard work, but Mom's promise of hot spiced cider was coercion enough.
I....
By early evening, The Sitter had arrived. Everyone spared me the added insult by dropping the customary "baby-" prefix. I've always called her "Linda" to protect her identity. Linda and I had been saddled together before, so we knew each other's routine well enough to have come to an understanding: I played relatively hassle-free and she got to do "whatever" with the boyfriend of the moment without any interference from me. As soon as Mom and Dad were out of sight down the road, I began suiting up for some serious outdoor fun with Lancer, and Linda commenced an evening of conversation and extracurricular activities with her boyfriend via telephone. They were still engaged in something akin to phone sex as the front door slammed shut behind me.
I hunger....
Clouds had moved in late in the afternoon, trapping the day's heat. With the clouds came my first experience with a winter lightning storm. Being a child at the time, my attention jumped from fetch with Lancer to the growing storm, to the sudden eeriness of the naked birch trees at dusk, and then to a screeching halt on my snowman.
Had the darkness been playing tricks? It seemed closer. And the face! How could a combination of snow, buttons and a carrot appear so sinister? Filled with a half-serious case of the willies, I gave in to the impulse to pelt the thing with snowballs. It was nice and dark out by then, so no one could bear witness to any error in marksmanship. To my utter surprise, my first two efforts removed both the stetson and the carrot nose. Encouraged, I knelt and began hastily replenishing my ammunition, all earlier premonitions of impending doom forgotten.
So hungry! I must feed...
Linda screamed into the phone with all the rage she could muster. How dare he call her by another girl's name?! As she raised herself upright on the couch, she drew in a deep breath and prepared to renew her tirade, when she noticed movement in her peripheral vision. The kid making snowballs, the dog running, and the snowman.... A preternatural chill knifed down her spine, and froze her body in mid-breath. The receiver slipped, falling from unfeeling fingers. It struck the hardwood floor like a gunshot, broke her paralysis and nearly deafened the boyfriend.
Oh, I am so hungry!
First I heard a soft crunch like a footfall on snow, but didn't look up until Lancer began barking with berserk intensity. I was frightened enough as it was, surprised at just hearing that kind of noise from such a little dog, but when I saw what he was barking at, my heart stopped and my bladder let go in a torrent....
Linda sprang over the back of the couch, slipped on the throw rug and careened off the front door. Instinctively, she grabbed the Louisville Slugger from its place against the door jamb, and wrenched open the front door. From forty feet away she watched helplessly as the kid's cute little puppy got too close to the snowman, and got snatched up by the impossibly fast-moving branch arms. In one fluid movement it stuffed the dog into its gaping maw and bit down, producing a brief yelp and sickening crunch.
Ahhhhhhh...
I watched Lancer die a horrible death, defending me. As the snowman bit down, my poor puppy crunched and his life blood sprayed everywhere. All the strength went out of my legs. I slumped and lay still, crying hysterically, even as the monster spat out Lancer's remains and moved towards me. It closed the gap swiftly, reaching for me with a gurgling hiss. It seemed huge at that moment, filling my field of vision.
So good! I must have more.
Linda heard a faint shrieking as she streaked across the lawn, distantly aware it was her own voice. She was determined to prevent the kid from suffering the same fate as that poor puppy. God, blood went all over! This thing sure wasn't like Frosty, spouting "Happy Birthday!" This was unholy, real and Deadly.
It managed to get one gnarled hand on me before I found the strength to resist. I was able to see past it momentarily, and marveled in a detached sort of way, at Linda racing across our front lawn, brandishing a baseball bat, shoe-less and with her shirt undone.
I am g-
As I was drawn toward that awful mouth that I created, the head disintegrated with a sharp, meaty smack. I'll always remember with vivid detail the bloody snow and pebbles scattering in the wind, and the maniacal look on Linda's face as she stood behind the monster wielding that bat with desperate determination. It seemed to lose control then, and dropped me from hands that were once again lifeless branches. Linda kept at it though, swinging with a ferocity that would have done even the Bambino proud.
It was over just as suddenly as it had begun. I stopped crying, stood up, and felt blood run down my cheek from a scratch I had received. Linda slumped to the ground amidst the tinted snow, reduced to hysterical sobbing. That's exactly how everyone found us a few hours later, suffering from exposure.
The official explanation was that Lancer attacked me, and Linda was forced to kill the puppy with a baseball bat. The psychologists reasoned that this, coupled with cruel treatment by her boyfriend, had rendered her mentally unstable. She was institutionalized at the State Mental Hospital, still wearing that wild, haunted look. As for her story of a carnivorous snowman, they said she made it up as a defense against having to cope with killing a little puppy.
And me? I'm resilient and adaptable, and always have been. Thankfully I bounced back very well, and never told a soul about the truth of the events, having seen what they did to poor Linda. I grew up into a happy and fulfilled professional, husband and father. Thankfully, my wife never asked why I insist on closely supervising while our children make their snowmen. She'd probably never believe me, and who would blame her?
Nevertheless, I watch....with a Louisville Slugger close at hand.
I started my first snowman on New Year's Eve of a year far enough gone to remind me just how mortal I am. After our family had spent much of the holiday season with various family members, my parents decided they needed to spend New Year's Eve alone. They announced that they were going to a hotel in town that was throwing a party, and staying the night. That meant a sitter for me. I was old enough to stay at home unsupervised after school until Mom and Dad got home from work during the week, but a Special Occasion like this demanded the presence of a sitter.
So, while they spent the day preparing every last detail of everything (they were always like that), I enjoyed an unusually warm day by turning the very pack-able snow into my first snowman! With help from my German Shepherd puppy Lancer (my most prestigious Christmas gift), I went all-out; a carrot nose, big button eyes, and sturdy fallen limb for arms. I even went so far as to hollow out the mouth, lined it with landscaping pebbles for teeth, and as a finishing touch, topped it off with a decrepit black stetson that I liberated from the neighbor's garbage. Since I wasn't very tall, its finished appearance resembled that of a white gorilla in a cowboy hat, with arms not quite brushing the ground. I was reluctant to come inside after all that hard work, but Mom's promise of hot spiced cider was coercion enough.
I....
By early evening, The Sitter had arrived. Everyone spared me the added insult by dropping the customary "baby-" prefix. I've always called her "Linda" to protect her identity. Linda and I had been saddled together before, so we knew each other's routine well enough to have come to an understanding: I played relatively hassle-free and she got to do "whatever" with the boyfriend of the moment without any interference from me. As soon as Mom and Dad were out of sight down the road, I began suiting up for some serious outdoor fun with Lancer, and Linda commenced an evening of conversation and extracurricular activities with her boyfriend via telephone. They were still engaged in something akin to phone sex as the front door slammed shut behind me.
I hunger....
Clouds had moved in late in the afternoon, trapping the day's heat. With the clouds came my first experience with a winter lightning storm. Being a child at the time, my attention jumped from fetch with Lancer to the growing storm, to the sudden eeriness of the naked birch trees at dusk, and then to a screeching halt on my snowman.
Had the darkness been playing tricks? It seemed closer. And the face! How could a combination of snow, buttons and a carrot appear so sinister? Filled with a half-serious case of the willies, I gave in to the impulse to pelt the thing with snowballs. It was nice and dark out by then, so no one could bear witness to any error in marksmanship. To my utter surprise, my first two efforts removed both the stetson and the carrot nose. Encouraged, I knelt and began hastily replenishing my ammunition, all earlier premonitions of impending doom forgotten.
So hungry! I must feed...
Linda screamed into the phone with all the rage she could muster. How dare he call her by another girl's name?! As she raised herself upright on the couch, she drew in a deep breath and prepared to renew her tirade, when she noticed movement in her peripheral vision. The kid making snowballs, the dog running, and the snowman.... A preternatural chill knifed down her spine, and froze her body in mid-breath. The receiver slipped, falling from unfeeling fingers. It struck the hardwood floor like a gunshot, broke her paralysis and nearly deafened the boyfriend.
Oh, I am so hungry!
First I heard a soft crunch like a footfall on snow, but didn't look up until Lancer began barking with berserk intensity. I was frightened enough as it was, surprised at just hearing that kind of noise from such a little dog, but when I saw what he was barking at, my heart stopped and my bladder let go in a torrent....
Linda sprang over the back of the couch, slipped on the throw rug and careened off the front door. Instinctively, she grabbed the Louisville Slugger from its place against the door jamb, and wrenched open the front door. From forty feet away she watched helplessly as the kid's cute little puppy got too close to the snowman, and got snatched up by the impossibly fast-moving branch arms. In one fluid movement it stuffed the dog into its gaping maw and bit down, producing a brief yelp and sickening crunch.
Ahhhhhhh...
I watched Lancer die a horrible death, defending me. As the snowman bit down, my poor puppy crunched and his life blood sprayed everywhere. All the strength went out of my legs. I slumped and lay still, crying hysterically, even as the monster spat out Lancer's remains and moved towards me. It closed the gap swiftly, reaching for me with a gurgling hiss. It seemed huge at that moment, filling my field of vision.
So good! I must have more.
Linda heard a faint shrieking as she streaked across the lawn, distantly aware it was her own voice. She was determined to prevent the kid from suffering the same fate as that poor puppy. God, blood went all over! This thing sure wasn't like Frosty, spouting "Happy Birthday!" This was unholy, real and Deadly.
It managed to get one gnarled hand on me before I found the strength to resist. I was able to see past it momentarily, and marveled in a detached sort of way, at Linda racing across our front lawn, brandishing a baseball bat, shoe-less and with her shirt undone.
I am g-
As I was drawn toward that awful mouth that I created, the head disintegrated with a sharp, meaty smack. I'll always remember with vivid detail the bloody snow and pebbles scattering in the wind, and the maniacal look on Linda's face as she stood behind the monster wielding that bat with desperate determination. It seemed to lose control then, and dropped me from hands that were once again lifeless branches. Linda kept at it though, swinging with a ferocity that would have done even the Bambino proud.
It was over just as suddenly as it had begun. I stopped crying, stood up, and felt blood run down my cheek from a scratch I had received. Linda slumped to the ground amidst the tinted snow, reduced to hysterical sobbing. That's exactly how everyone found us a few hours later, suffering from exposure.
The official explanation was that Lancer attacked me, and Linda was forced to kill the puppy with a baseball bat. The psychologists reasoned that this, coupled with cruel treatment by her boyfriend, had rendered her mentally unstable. She was institutionalized at the State Mental Hospital, still wearing that wild, haunted look. As for her story of a carnivorous snowman, they said she made it up as a defense against having to cope with killing a little puppy.
And me? I'm resilient and adaptable, and always have been. Thankfully I bounced back very well, and never told a soul about the truth of the events, having seen what they did to poor Linda. I grew up into a happy and fulfilled professional, husband and father. Thankfully, my wife never asked why I insist on closely supervising while our children make their snowmen. She'd probably never believe me, and who would blame her?
Nevertheless, I watch....with a Louisville Slugger close at hand.
Bereft - a poem by The Writer Eternal
The Traveler's journey started on a winding and vivid road, full of promise and fulfillment. Even when the terrain began to change, becoming less a lush jungle and more rocky mountains and fast-flowing streams, he still enjoyed the journey.
By the time the terrain became a roiling, blast-furnace desert, he did not notice. He had grown accustomed to the changed, blighted landscape. It came as no surprise when the road ended and his future was the aimless scenery of desert and stars without end. He did not even know that he was lost and near dying of thirst.
Staggering deliriously, he was beyond grateful when an oasis hove into view. The cool breeze and draft of water revived and emboldened him, but as quickly as he had come to it, the oasis vanished. Stunned, the traveler arose and plodded on, wondering if the oasis would reappear. The experience both rejuvenated and shook him.
The Traveler resolved to leave this desert behind, and plotted a new course by the abundant stars above. Though he moved with purpose he realized that he was still in a vast desert with no end in sight, and he began to despair. He was now self-aware and knew keenly his losses.
As if willed, the same oasis reappeared, and with wind and water again revitalized the Traveler. He knew it was the same oasis, and though his still, small voice whispered caution, the cool caress of the wind and the sweetness of the water won out. Beautiful and fickle, the oasis vanished again, leaving the Traveler both distraught and filled with renewed resolve to find a new world.
The scenery began to improve then, and the Traveler was encouraged by the progress into a newly discovered world. Unbidden, the oasis appeared for a third time, and the wind and water were surely the sweetest the Traveler had yet experienced. The Traveler relished this ethereal thrill and decided to end his journey and remain in this oasis til the end of his days.
But as with all mirages, the oasis vanished for a third time without warning, now leaving the Traveler alone, now leaving the Traveler fearful of oases.
By the time the terrain became a roiling, blast-furnace desert, he did not notice. He had grown accustomed to the changed, blighted landscape. It came as no surprise when the road ended and his future was the aimless scenery of desert and stars without end. He did not even know that he was lost and near dying of thirst.
Staggering deliriously, he was beyond grateful when an oasis hove into view. The cool breeze and draft of water revived and emboldened him, but as quickly as he had come to it, the oasis vanished. Stunned, the traveler arose and plodded on, wondering if the oasis would reappear. The experience both rejuvenated and shook him.
The Traveler resolved to leave this desert behind, and plotted a new course by the abundant stars above. Though he moved with purpose he realized that he was still in a vast desert with no end in sight, and he began to despair. He was now self-aware and knew keenly his losses.
As if willed, the same oasis reappeared, and with wind and water again revitalized the Traveler. He knew it was the same oasis, and though his still, small voice whispered caution, the cool caress of the wind and the sweetness of the water won out. Beautiful and fickle, the oasis vanished again, leaving the Traveler both distraught and filled with renewed resolve to find a new world.
The scenery began to improve then, and the Traveler was encouraged by the progress into a newly discovered world. Unbidden, the oasis appeared for a third time, and the wind and water were surely the sweetest the Traveler had yet experienced. The Traveler relished this ethereal thrill and decided to end his journey and remain in this oasis til the end of his days.
But as with all mirages, the oasis vanished for a third time without warning, now leaving the Traveler alone, now leaving the Traveler fearful of oases.