Camera!

She’d just gotten to the other side of the road when she heard him call.

“Hey, you left your camera in the car.”

“What? That’s not mine.”

“It must be yours. I haven’t picked anyone else up today.” He shoved it into her hand and walked away. The leather strap felt slick, slimy, but worst of all, it felt alive. Lucy shuddered and almost dropped it.

Camera is a bonus short story in my upcoming book “Ghosts on the Sand”. Watch out for it it’s COMING SOON!

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Darkness Comes!

inside-barn-e1392609756683

The air was frigid. I shivered. Les, wake up. My mind said the words, but my mouth wouldn’t open. I tried to move. I was paralyzed.

Open your eyes, you’re dreaming, wake up!, but I knew my eyes were wide open. There was nothing to see but a fog of darkness.

“Help” I whispered feebly, so feebly I couldn’t hear my own words. “Les, help me.”

A hand touched mine. It was icy cold. I didn’t want to see who it belonged to. It guided me slowly though the dark cold air, cold hands touching my body as I passed by. Leave me be. Let me go.

A bright light pierced the darkness ahead of me. We moved slowly towards it and then we turned a corner sharply.

The light is evil!

Malevolent whispers raped the silence.

“Where am I?”

Giggles, whispers, singing.

I’m in an asylum. I’m dreaming. I must be dreaming. “Les!” The only thing that came out of my mouth was a cloud of white breath. It hung in front of me like a frozen cloud.

I hit my head on something sharp, but I couldn’t raise my hand to rub it. Warm blood trickled  down my cheek. I was falling.

The giggles turned to hysterical laugher. “She fell, she fell, look at her. Oh look at her. We have her now”

“No you don’t. She’s only visiting, leave her be,” It was my grandma’s voice, soothing, gentle.

Where am I? 

Shapes emerged from the darkness. I was back in the barn.

Hush little baby don’t you cry, mamma’s going to sing you a lullaby.

“WAKE UP. WHATS WRONG WITH YOU? WAKE UP”

I gulped and sat up.

Les was shaking me.

“That was one hell of a dream!” he said!

I write for fun, but when I retire, I plan to make money from my stories. Just imagine, making money doing something I love. I know Iv’ve left it a little late, but I’ve actually been writing send I was 12 years old. Therapy, cheaper to put your thoughts and fears down on paper than lie on that leather couch and be analyzed. Anyway, if you want a cheap amusing read, go buy my first novel on Amazon. It’s only $0.99 and its a fun read Dead of July 

Also check out my Writer Page on FacebookDead of July – Facebook

Unforgettable Figment of my Imagination – Oh Baby thats what I Want

The room was warm and filled with blue cigarette smoke. Speakers screeched with feedback. One two, one two, and then the music began. It was music I’d heard before, long ago. I’d heard it on movies. The dance floor was alive with laughter. Ladies in tight pants with tiny waists danced to the sound of the Big Bopper. Where had I heard that name before?

“Oh baby that’s what I want”

It was dark, hard to see. Where was I? It was a different time, a different place, and a different world!

“Hey, you wanna jive with me?”

“What?”

“You wanna jive with me?”

A young man in tight jeans and a shirt with a thin black leather tie hanging down the front stood in front of me. His hair was slicked back, a curl falling over his forehead. Placed there carefully to look random. Is this what my mam had called a teddy boy? I thought teddy boys had gone out of fashion years ago.

“No, I don’t jive!”

He looked disappointed and walked away. He had more luck with the girl sitting across the room. I watched fascinated as he swung her in circles.

Where was I?

The jiving finished and the music slowed down. I knew the next song very well. Nat King Cole. Unforgettable! It was my mam’s favorite!

That’s when I saw him walking towards me, his head tilted to one side, his eyes shining with mischief. He stopped halfway across the dance floor and lit a cigarette, holding it as though it were a fashion accessory. It suited him! He must be hot in his leather jacket, but it made him look icy cool. I shivered as he approached. He took my hand and led me to the dance floor. Unforgettable, that’s what you are.

He stopped and swung me around to face him.

Where am I? Where did you come from?

My heart stopped!

I gasped for breath!

The smoke was gone, but I still tasted it. The music was a shadow in my mind, haunting the corners of my memory.

I’d dreamt it all? The dark stranger in the park, and then in the pub, had triggered my imagination. I could still feel his touch, smell his leather jacket. Who was he?

Is he real or am I imagining him?

Dead of July my first novel is available on Amazon from $0.99, yes that’s less than a pound or a euro if you live in Europe. I’m cheap! I want everyone to read my first attempt at being a writer. I’ve been writing since I was 12 years old. Some of my old stories will resurface soon, but for now, there’s Dead of July! A young army wife in trouble…not far from the truth, I always was! Enjoy!

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

 

Eyes of the Dead

Photograph provided by Robert Santafede

Eyes - Photo by Robert Santafede

The rain had stopped, but the night was heavy with moisture. It was just after midnight and the road was deserted. Dan’s headlights cut through the night and were the only relief from the dark. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. He should have spent the night in London with friends, but he was eager to get home for the Summer. His final exams at University had left him drained.

His journey was almost over and he sped along the A66 knowing that within an hour he would be home. Something ran across the road in front of him and he braked, almost hitting it. What was that? It wasn’t a deer, it looked like a man! Dan pulled over and stopped the car. He turned off the engine and rubbed his eyes.

“Almost home”

Dan opened the window allowing the cold night air to penetrate the car. After taking a couple of deep breaths, he tried to start the car. The engine was dead.

“Damn” he said as he hammered on the steering wheel. Exhausted and frustrated he picked up his cell phone. No signal. “Damn” he said again.

Dan got out of the car and looked around him. He could see a house in the distance, a house he had never noticed before. Hardly surprising as he usually traveled along this road at over seventy miles an hour. Lights shone from the windows giving him hope as he walked along the road. Less than ten minutes brought him to the driveway and as his feet crunched on the gravel, the huge building loomed in front of him.

Lights shone dimly from the leaded glass windows of the gothic structure. Dan approached the door slowly. It was awfully late to be knocking on a stranger’s door and asking for help. He tried his cell phone again. Dead!

As he walked up the steps to the front door the lights went out. He was rooted to the spot for a few seconds. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Was someone watching him? He turned around trying to find those unseen eyes. His imagination was getting the better of him. He heard a sound behind him, a low growling, what was that? He ran forward and hammered on the huge wooden door.

It opened slowly and he stepped inside, into the darkness.

The Carlisle Police found Dan’s car the following morning, but there was no sign of Dan. They searched the area for several days in vain. A couple of weeks later a hiker found a cell phone in the ruins of an old building just off the A66. There were several missed calls from his parents, and a photo he had taken of an old house with windows that looked like eyes.

My new novel ‘Dead of July’ will be released later this year. For updates keep following this blog or  Follow me on Facebook

I started my writing career with two short stories, which although not perfect, have received great reviews. Once people stop buying them I will take them back off Amazon and have them re-edited. 

Spooked!

How many times have  you walked upstairs to go to bed after switching off the lights? The house is in complete darkness. You get half way up the stairs and start to panic. You get goosebumps and feel like there is someone or something behind you and rush up the last few steps to get into the bedroom and put the light on. The top of the stairs seem an awful long way when you are scared.

This has happened to me so many times I have lost count. I get the shivers and it feels like I will never reach the light switch.

What if you reached out for the light switch and you hand was snatched away from it by something unseen?

What is something brushed past you, touching your skin?

What if you reached out for the light switch and your hand touched something else, something you were afraid of. A tarantula or a clammy invisible face.?

What if your worst nightmare played out and you never got to switch the light on at all?

How vivid is your imagination?  How badly can you scare yourself?

Switch off all of the lights now and give it a try.

Free e-book Girl on the Beach (US)      Purchase ‘Guy at the Bar’ $0.99 Guy at the Bar Amazon

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