30/08/07 The first post of what I hope to be a going trend. From today onwards I’ll be posting up a piece of fiction, usually horror or comedy; at least once every week. Feel free to let me know what you think. The first piece is a snippet of an ongoing story.
It was too good to be true. A enormous cottage on fifteen acres, it had great heating, a view to die for and a river side pier. All this for only $50,000 dollars, you can’t go wrong; the agent had said. ‘Think of the opportunities’ he had said. But of course it was never that simple, did Barry ask ‘why so cheap?’ no, why question the deal. Get away for a while, that had been the plan. Let the country air and isolation drive away the worry. Barry sighed and slumped into the tyre swing.
The view really was an eye catcher though.
Great ghost gums guarding over an infinite sea of parched grass. Dusty bowls that could of easily passed as meteor craters, deserted holes where the rabbits didn’t even bother to visit. A flaking track, barren of life and constantly covered by dust clouds winding between the trees to the horizon. Streaks of orange and purple played across the night sky, crowned by a great dome of spotted emptiness.
As the light breeze wisped through the grass, a faint song carried with it. Barry new this music, he heard it often in the city. The sound of artistry and the pulse of life, it was his muse; it told him the great things he could accomplish. The beat was slow but constant, but more rapid as he worked; stopping only when his work was complete, dimming away until the next flash of inspiration. Barry swilled down his lime and whiskey and set back to his studio. Creativity could be a pest, it followed him wherever he went; not matter how hard he tried to hide.
Detective Harris Kinlenn swilled another mouthful of mocha. Thick and black and hot to boot, that was the way to drink. It burned for a second, then quickly plummeted down the gullet. Like a snake in a hole; it left a nasty sting that reminded even the most tired and worn copper that he was still on the job. This case was like so many others in the this year, twisted up and hard to manage; but at least the pay was better. Harris had lost track of the hours; how long had he been here anyway. Fourteen, fifteen hours? He stared out into the rain. Now that was funny; of course it only rains when I’m hanging around with a corpse Harris mused. ‘Kinlenn get in here’ Detective Ralph Hest’s distinctive sandpaper wrapped voice scratched out from behind the office door. Harris carefully stepped around the narrow doorway; he was surprised that rather than blood, the lingering stench of paint and overpowering oder of espresso assaulted his nostrils. Apparently he hadn’t finished the first time around.
Rather than Hest, the woman stared back at him. She sat in the chair dressed in a blue buttoned suit and jacket. Her hands were firmly glued to the sides of her head as if she suffered some kind of permanent migraine. He locked eyes with her swollen gaze, she didn’t blink anymore. Her hair was matted and she had a ghoulish lifelike quality, as if she was still pouring over company finances even now. It was hard to think that he got paid to work on things like this.
“Piece of work isn’t it?” Hest stood up from behind the desk, dispelling the trance. “Oh yea, it’s something alright” Harris replied distantly.
“Coffee?” he offered