TV Zombie

tv_zombie

Norah whispered softly to her pup as she carried her home.
“Please don’t die on me. You’re my baby, you got me through college, and law school. I need you.”
Lacie’s breathing was shallow, she no longer whimpered, and her little body was limp.
“Almost home baby, almost safe.”
Why aren’t the lights on along the driveway?
She thought of calling John again, but changed her mind. As she stepped onto the asphalt driveway, the lights came back on, dimly at first, slowly growing brighter.
Must have been a power cut.
Then lights became abnormally bright and one by one, as she passed them, the bulbs exploded. Holding Lacie close, she continued slowly towards the house.
Somethings wrong here, very wrong.
A strange blue light spilled from the open drapes in the living room window. She left the path and walked across the lawn to see what it was. Peering into her own house she saw the silhouette of her husband John. He was standing in front of the television, staring at a screen that showed nothing but blue static. Norah watched him for thirty seconds or more. He began to speak, but not in his normal voice. The words were monotone and in a language she’d never heard.
What the hell is going on here?
Her husband turned around and walked towards the window. Nora held
her breath.
Don’t let him see me!
Why was she suddenly afraid of her husband? His face was blank, expressionless.
Did he see me?
He closed the drapes, shutting her out. The static grew louder, it surrounded her. Norah became dizzy, she wanted to throw up.
I have to get Lacie to the vet.
A loud pulsing buzz erupted from Norah’s hom. It made the air feel heavy and oppresive.
Lacie whimpered weakly, spurring Norah to take action, but two steps were all she managed before her legs gave way. Norah’s brain switched off moments before her body made contact with the soft wet grass.

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Jimmy Dean – James Dean – Rock On!

James-Dean-Smile-150x150I couldn’t take my eyes off his reflection in the mirror. He was a handsome vision of good and bad all rolled into one gorgeous package, and he was looking at me. ME!

“Something wrong love?” It was the barman who spoke.

“What, no, I’m okay,” I said without taking my eyes of the face in the mirror. The crooked grin widened. I smiled back. I was under his spell. Who was he? Without knowing what I would say I took a deep breath and turned around. He was gone. Was he playing a game with me? The pub door swung shut and I ran towards it. I had to know who he was. I had to speak to him. The street was empty. Where did he go? A cruel game! Where are you, who are you?

I walked back inside, hurt and confused.

“Where’d you go?” Cindy asked, “Your foods getting cold. Are you all right? You look like you found a pound and lost a fiver.”

“I’m fine. I did lose something though. Did you see a guy sitting at the bar?”

“I saw a couple of guys sitting at the bar, anyone in particular.”

“Black hair, white tee-shirt, handsome?”

Cindy looked at me quizzically, “Not the same guy you claim to have seen in the car park this morning?”

I hung my head. “Yes, the same one.”

George began to laugh. “Are you conjuring up yourself an imaginary boyfriend?”

“Believe me, if I could conjure up someone who looked like him, I’d be happy for the rest of my life.”

The laugher lightened my mood. We ordered another round of drinks and enjoyed our food, but I kept my eye on the door, hoping he’d come back.

“Come on, we need to get out of here, I’d love another drink, but we’ve got another tough day at work tomorrow. I hope Jan comes in and does her share. Do you want us to walk you home?”

“No, I’m fine. Maybe I’ll run in to a handsome stranger.” I said hopefully.

There was no handsome stranger on my way home. I went to bed disappointed. Was I falling in love with a figment of my own imagination? I’d not dated anyone for quite some time, but wasn’t worried about it. My life was full of friends, travel, parties and work. I didn’t need a man in my life, well not until now. The song I’d heard in the bar was still ringing in my head, it lulled me to sleep. I dreamed of James Dean!

Hey did you rock and roll, rock on, oh my soul.

Hey did you boogie too, did you?

My first novel Dead of July is available on Amazon. A bargain at $0.99, yes thats less than a British pound.

Dead of July by Sandra ThompsonI’d love to hear from  you after you’ve it. A review on Amazon would be even better.

Stay tuned for the next installment of my blog story.  

The Smoking Man

I saw him first on a Monday morning. Why I paid attention to him I don’t know, well maybe I do. A striking figure, he sat on a bench the rose garden  smoking a cigarette. He wore a black leather jacket, open at the front. It was a cold morning in North Yorkshire. Spring hadn’t quite turned into summer and a slight frost glistened on the grass. It was much too cold to sit outside and smoke.

I hurried into the office, my breath making clouds in the cold air.

“Morning sunshine, I just put a cup of coffee on your desk” my bosses husband greeted me as he left to make his rent collecting rounds for the day.

“Morning, thanks, mind how you go,” I answered as the door shut behind him.

My boss, Cindy, met me in the door way of our office. “I’m going up to finance, I’ll be back in half an hour or so, Jan isn’t coming in. Tummy bug, or too much brandy over the weekend, see you in a bit.”

I grabbed my coffee and walked over to the window, enjoying the view of the hills and greenery that surrounded the sleepy little market town. I looked down to the park, a place I often sat in the summer, enjoying a sandwich from the local bakery. A thin wisp of smoke floated in the air. I’d forgotten about the smoking man.

The door opened behind me and Cindy appeared. “Hi, seems everyone’s late this morning, I’ll grab another coffee and try again in half an hour. What are you looking at?”

I turned back to the window “There’s a bloke sitting out there chain-smoking. He must be freezing.”

Cindy followed my gaze. “I don’t see anyone.”

I looked again. “He was there a minute ago.” I put my cup down and walked closer to the window, my breath clouding the glass. Sure enough the smoking man was gone, but not completely. A perfect smoke ring hovered above the bench, the only evidence he’d ever been there.

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Yes, another story has escaped my tormented brain, where’s this one going? if you know the answer you’re better than me. My stories enter my head in installments…..you could say I have episodes! Keep following, it may be a fun ride. Check out my first novel on Amazon. Bargain at $0.99. When I’m famous I’ll charge much more. Stephen King started cheap too. I write for fun, any profit I make is a bonus. 

Dead of July

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

Life measured by Christmas.

DSC01447The first Christmas I remember came with plastic roller skates. I knocked over the Christmas tree learning how to skate. That was in 1962. I was young!

A stereo was special in 1975. David Bowie sounded much better in stereo. It was a good year.

In 1988 I was a mother with a child of my own. A child who spent all day jumping on her Christmas gift, a trampoline, it was the best year ever. 

The Christmases have quickly passed me by, from child, to bride, to mother. Each filled with different types of joy only a family can share.

This year is the last one my baby, my child, my only daughter, will share our last name. She will be married before the next Christmas rolls around. How time flies. What next? Grandchildren I suppose and the cycle starts again. 

Merry Christmas to One and All. 

Enjoy the present, look forward to the future and remember the past.

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TRAVEL TALES AND MISHAPS

I have a new book out for Christmas. If you have time over the holidays, give it a try. Set in Germany in 1982, it is a fun read. A German Ghost Story and the adventures of a British Army Wife. 

Click on the cover to purchase from Amazon.

A German Ghost Story