Breathe
It is a cold January night. The wind rattles the windows and the door; and I watch tree limbs blow to and fro, lit only by the hazy glow of the street lights. My lamp flickers. I know I should search out a flashlight and some candles just in case. The night appears moonless, but I trust it is there. I breathe deeply. Sigh.
I cuddle in a blanket on the couch, try to distract myself by watching television. The screen flickers.
The front door clatters. Is someone at the door at this late hour? On such a night? I remember being home alone as a child. Home alone when an unexpected doorbell ring occurred. I would hide in another room, cower in a closet until there was silence. Then, waiting a few minutes, I would peek out behind a curtain to assure myself that the unknown visitor was gone. But tonight my doorbell is NOT ringing.
Deciding it foolish to hide, I wait it out from the safety of my couch. After all, no one can see inside through the closed blinds. I grab a heavy vase, grasp it on my lap, in case.
Knocking continues. Persistent. Loud. The rattling of the storm door continues. I feel my heart beating faster. Who is on the other side? I breathe.
Should I dial 911? Should I cry out to see if someone needs help this windy night? I cling to the vase. It could hurt someone! I breathe.
Still the rattle, but lessening now. The wind calms. The rattling stops. Is this a ruse? A trick to get me to open the door? Or has someone fallen ill on my front walk? Or dead?
Holding my vase I jerk open the door and find the storm door hanging by only one hinge, loosened and battered by the wind. Safe again. I breathe!
This fictional story is being written for Sunday's "Telling Tales with Magaly Guerrero: A Pantry of Prose - 1" I used this poem of mine - January Wind - from January 26 to inspire a short story using 313 words or less. Smiles. My short story has exactly 313 words!
Great build up of suspense before the final anti-climactic moment. I love it!
ReplyDeletehaha oh where the mind can go and then usually it is the mundane.
ReplyDelete"The night appears moonless, but I trust it is there." I do, too, and trust an intruder is behind every sound. I think it's because of knocking-on-the-door stories older kids would tell us in horror show voices in dark under-the-table rainy day tents. I think you've captured that.
ReplyDeleteLove this building up of what's next. A thrilling read. You've wonderfully turned the poem into a a suspense story.
ReplyDeleteMary, I love your story! I very much enjoyed the poem too, but I think you have made the story more suspenseful and exciting. Very interesting to note.
ReplyDeleteThis is a great story... the fear of the night and the various concerns, is there someone in need of help or something sinister? The short sentences really help to build a staccato sense of urgent fear.
ReplyDeleteThe suspense was well written... Reminded me of my home alone days...
ReplyDeleteVisiting you after a really long time. Happy to see you!
The pacing did a great job at conveying the protagonist's nervousness.
ReplyDeleteMary, I found myself leaning closer and closer and closer... to my screen, waiting window or door to burst. I was right here with the narrator, breathing to keep my cool... reminding myself that I didn't have to open my eyes bigger to read what was just in front of me, hoping for all to be well. This story says so much about the nature of anxiety and fear.
ReplyDeleteFantastic pacing and suspense. And the ending? Perfect.
Glad to know I wasn’t the only one who would hide if someone rang the doorbell when I was alone as a child. I think I still might, even as an adult... Nice job!
ReplyDeleteWhat great use of tension and build-up in this scene. An awesome write, Mary, and how cool it is exactly 313 words. I think you get extra points for that! Smiles.
ReplyDeleteParagraph One speaks so much wisdom. The in breath an the confirmation the even though the moon is unseen, it is there, in the sky in your heart as the night light of hope. Luv your suspense filled tale, Mary
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday
THEN MOON SMILED: a haiku fiction sequence
I did not link to PU today because i did poetry, drop by still
much love...
That was scary!!
ReplyDeleteWow scary--and I love the connection between the story and your poem--
ReplyDeleteWoww!❤️ I love how you build up to the part where the storm door is "hanging by only one hinge," wonderful pacing in this one, Mary!❤️
ReplyDeletePhew! I thought it was the bogey man! You had be going there :)
ReplyDeleteThis was intense you had be wondering what was out there, Mary. Great buildup of suspense. I went back and read your poem it's amazing what you created with the prose.
ReplyDeleteNicely done - very well constructed, I thought. You really drew me in.
ReplyDeleteThis gave me goose bumps and i was on the edge of my seat! Wonderful story telling Mary! I love it and now am going to read your inspired poetry.
ReplyDeleteLove the tenseness of this. There is such fear of the unknown and our minds runs a dark gambit of possibilities when it is presented with it. Happy your ending was only a wind battered screen door as the noisy culprit.
ReplyDeletethe buildup is well paced leading to the wham of an ending. i breathe a sigh of relief at the end. :)
ReplyDeleteYikes! I was hiding right behind the narrator as they crept up to the door!
ReplyDeleteThe littlest things in life (banging doors, for instance) can often give us the biggest frights.
ReplyDelete