#SwiftFicFriday W97 – Vote!

#SwiftFicFriday W97 – Vote!

Another prompt, another round of great stories to choose from. Check the stories out below and vote for your favorite!


Old Man Garvey’s House

I’m not a nostalgia nut. Don’t dwell in the past. In fact, I am a full-blown, rooted in the present guy. Barely think of the future and never give a nod to antiquity. So, I have to say that finding myself passing through my hometown on the way to a new client’s home further downstream and suddenly veering off my intended direction to take a peek at my old neighborhood kinda caught me off guard.

The family shack was still there. And occupied. A Rustbucket of a VW van was in the driveway, a kids trike upended on the lawn. Coulda been my trike…but my folks never bought me one. Never had a trike as far as I can remember. Later on, I was ten, I found an old CCM.

Okay, I ripped it off. Said I found it. Folks didn’t care. Maybe they even believed me that I found it.

Next door to us, that’s where old man Garvey’s house used to stand. Ancient mausoleum it was. Hovered over us like we were nothing. He hadn’t kept it up. Hard to do I suppose. No kids around. Cranky old bugger.

I was always curious and from time to time snuck into his basement. Lots of old crap stored there in boxes. Old man Garvey was deft so he usually didn’t hear me.

Except for that one time.

Hit me more than once with that corn broom.

Swore I’d get even.

And then the fire.

It was a great fire.

My first.

Nothing left but ash.

And bones.

I suppose it was natural someone would rebuild on the site. Land…worth something. The house there now…looks like it’s seen better days.

And old man Garvey.

Bet he’s still there.

Haunting the neighborhood.

Serves them all right!

299 words by Bill Engleson (@billmelaterplea)

The heavy thunk of Countess Caroline’s crystal ball hitting the floor elicited a small disappointed moan. She wasn’t alone. Bibi was likely upsetting herself trying to put the ball back. An hour after sunset, Kerri still wasn’t ready to see the old shrike. Still, she knocked on the countess’ mahogany door.

“Countess Caroline? It’s Kerri White. May I come in?”

“Of course, of course. I knew you were there.”

The countess sat stiffly composed in her ancient armchair. The maid was in the corner working up to a whimper struggling vainly with bent knees and both hands to lift the countess’ crystal from where it had rolled.

“Here, Bibi, let me get that.”

Kerri lifted the crystal delicately, prompting a grateful nod from the big-eyed maid. Returning the ball to the countess’ table, Kerri kept her blue eyes averted from the crone’s bottomless black gaze.

“I’ll be the one attending you from now on. My mother… She’s gone.”

“Yes, that will be fine.”

Countess Caroline waved Kerri off unconcerned. Bibi, however, burst into tears and flew to embrace Kerri for the third time that day. The countess drummed her sharp fingernails unimpressed.

“She cannot feel you, Bibi.”

Actually, Kerri felt a chill every time the ghost maid’s ethereal form passed through her. Bibi glared at the countess.

“I’m comforting her; it is the thought that counts!” Bibi pronounced in her nasal accent.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Kerri addressed the countess.

“Yes, have Frank bring up my goblet and a blood box. I do not feel like hunting tonight.”

The old vampire hadn’t hunted in Kerri’s lifetime. Rather than comment, she curtsied and left to comply. Caroline and Bibi returned to the crystal ball.

“She will date a werewolf?”

“Two years from now. I hate dogs.”

299 words by David A Ludwig (@DavidALudwig)

Kyle tried not to stare at his phone where it sat on the desk next to him.

She’ll call or text when she’s ready.

He hoped. He’d seen the Luna a few days ago and asked her to take the note to Eloise.

What kind of a Moonsinger are you? His Brother Wolf whined in the back of his head. You should’ve tracked her down and given it to Eloise yourself.

His Brother wasn’t wrong but he hadn’t been convinced Eloise actually wanted to see him. So he’d given Julianna the note and left the next move to Eloise.

And sat there watching his phone for a call or text.

You’re pathetic.

“Hey Kyle, are you done logging the expenditures from the last year yet?” Zach strode in with more paperwork for the Wolf’s Den Bar & Grill.

“Uh, no, not yet. Almost. Why?” He tried to focus on the keyboard and screen in front of him.

“Because the tax paperwork is due in like two weeks and the Alpha needs to get it submitted to the accountant. Dude, where is your head? You started this a week ago.”

Which was the exact same time he’d been waiting for a call or text from Eloise.

“Yeah, I’ve been a little distracted.” He grimaced as he typed in a few numbers, snarled when he transposed them, and hit delete to start over.

“Ya think?” Zach snorted. “Does this have anything to do with Eloise Farkas and her engagement ending?”

Kyle swallowed a growl of frustration. “No.”

Zach laughed. “Dude, I can smell the lies. Just ask her out already.”

“I can’t. She already rejected me. You think I wanna go through that twice?” He straightened his shoulders. “It’s up to her to ask me now. The ball’s in her court.”

299 words by Siobhan Muir (@SiobhanMuir)

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