A Pair of Creepy Shorts
by
Cal Noble
©2011 Cal Noble
All rights reserved
Table of Contents
Review
Uncollected Temptation
Thank You
About the Author
Review
When the rain stopped, Maria opened the window and leaned out to survey the wet street below. She couldn’t believe she ever thought of jumping. It was only four stories; it wasn’t like it would kill her. Many people survived higher falls. Then again, lesser tumbles proved fatal for a good number of people. Either way, there was no sense in tearing open scars to remind herself what the wound looked like. With a smile and a wave, she greeted a familiar face on the sidewalk below. She had seen the balding man countless times, always wearing the same brown suit and carrying the same worn out briefcase. His dark eyes flashed up toward her, and then fell to the pavement. If he smiled, she couldn’t see it beneath the thick gray moustache covering the better part of his mouth.
Maria tried to remember his name, but couldn’t. Nor could she recall how she knew him. Perhaps he was a tenant in the same building. By the time she gave up wondering, he was out of sight. Withdrawing from the window, she turned to face the room. Sunlight poured through the open window and splashed the floor where she stood. Across the rectangle of light, lay several spindly shadows on the polished hardwood floor. Even in the shade of the room, the gold and silver frames of several photos on a built-in bookcase glimmered.
Maria stepped from the sunlight to study the photographs. The first was a small boy with a big smile. Judging by his size and missing tooth, Maria figured he must have been six or seven. He was a handsome boy with a face she had seen many times before, but she could not think of his name. Nor could she name the twin girls in the next photograph. Everything about them was familiar. The bright green eyes, the wavy strawberry blond hair in pigtails, even the matching blue and green soccer uniforms numbered nine and six were all familiar, but she could not call their names to mind.
The next photo sent a jolt through her. It started at the top of her head, split like lightning at her hips, and finished in the heel of each foot. They all looked so familiar: the three children, the brown-haired man who looked like he had difficulty remaining faithful, and the woman. Yes, she definitely knew the woman. But who was she? Maria wracked her brain trying to think of the woman’s name. She knew her. There was no forgetting that bright orange mop of hair, no forgetting those thin lips struggling to smile. And yet, everything about the woman was pathetically forgettable.
“Think,” she prompted herself, feeling lost. As she turned from the photos to search for clues, movement in her periphery startled her.
The red-haired woman in the photograph stood near the front door, which was opposite the window, with her head down and her fists clenched.
“Holy crap,” Maria said. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”
The woman walked across the hardwood floor without acknowledging her. Maria recognized the set jaw, the pursed lips, and vacant eyes.
“Who are you?” she asked.
The stranger never stopped, but slowed and looked at the photos as she passed them. Maria walked behind her.
As she stepped into the patch of light on the floor, the lady whispered, “No more death, neither sorrow.” She took a few more steps, tilted forward, and—without speeding up or hesitating—poured herself headfirst through the open window.
“Oh my God,” Maria screamed, leaning out the window. As the stranger fell, Maria felt herself falling with her in a never-ending plummet.
When the rain stopped, Maria opened the window and leaned out to survey the wet street below. She couldn’t believe she ever thought of jumping.
# # #
Uncollected Temptation