The immense rumble from the ground sent fright through the hearts of everyone in a thousand-mile radius. The loud warning tone set free by the Emergency Broadcast System rang through every television and cell phone around. All sense of normal had escaped. Instructions were to stay where you are, avoid doorways and remain inside. Stop, drop and hold on to whatever was sturdiest around you.

I made my way through the debilitating shake, my arms spread out for balance, each step calculated in order to reach my kitchen table. 

I crawled underneath it and began to pray, wondering if this was how the last minutes of my life would unfold. 

I watched the clock, seconds ticked by before it plunged to the ground, next went my late grandmother’s china, and then her oak cabinet. I intertwined my fingers, placing my hands on the back of my neck. I could see the foundation split beneath me like a crooked line of death. The roof began to buckle. I was sure to suffocate in my own home… and alone. 

Six minutes it lasted, a nearly unheard of six minutes. I dug from underneath the rubble, coughing and spitting dust from my mouth. I shook the mortar from my hair and wiped it from my clothing. Debris particles floated through the air, assuming they were harmful, I pulled my shirt over my face, leaving my eyes uncovered. I could see my front door, perfectly conditioned, only now resting sideways. Unable to open it with my hands, I laid on my back, placed my feet against it, and with the strength from my legs, pushed it open. The bright sun immediately blinded me. Helicopters flew frantically against the cloudless sky; sirens overwhelmed my ears. 

I emerged from my hillside cave, thankful to be alive. 

“I see a train.” He exhaled. 

“My mind feels heavy, mushy, like that blob you’re holding.” The man looked towards the neatly dressed woman, her hair in a bun. She wore reading glasses, he assumed only as a fashion statement.

“Heavy steam rolling from the engine, passengers peering out the windows, looking down on me from the trestle. The mighty wheels roaring over the tracks, click, clack, click, clack..……. I don’t feel anything. I’m wondering if I’ve lost my train of thought. Forgive me for the pun. A lot of things just pass me by.” He said.

“The greenest of trees flourish in the summer sun, the locomotive roars on at a steady pace against the bright cloudless sky. The sound of the horn fills the air, an unheeded warning. Chugga, chugga, choo, choo. I plainly hear its movement……… Tunnel up ahead. I must warn the conductor, though I’m sure he’s travelled these railings a million times. All color disappears, a circular void awaits their entry…….. No one notices, only me, the outsider looking in. I’m always the outsider.” He continued.

Glancing over her wire frames, she asked for clarification. “What do you see?”

“Okay, so, what is it that I see? What do I see?” He moaned, frustrated by the length of time that had passed since the test began.

She nodded. 

“That ink blot, and every other abstract dark shape you’ve shown me, appears to be a mirage, a trap. If the train keeps travelling and at the same rate of speed, it will hit the brick wall disguised as a tunnel to detour and destroy. A train wreck, that’s what I see. My life is a train wreck. Pun, once again intended.” He forced a smile.

She switched cards again. “And this one? What do you see?”

“I see a butterfly. Are you happy now?”  He asked.

“Get her! She doesn’t listen to anything I say.” Scarlett pulled her three-year-old daughter by the arm.

     “Come to daddy.” Jordan reached down and twirled his daughter upwards. Ruby wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “It was your bright idea to bring her to this museum.” He griped.

     Scarlett swung her purse around. She leaned in closely to the glass encased exhibit containing a fragile map and compass used by the late, rugged Isabella Bird. She glanced back at her husband. “Don’t you want our daughter to be a strong woman?”

     “Depends on what your definition is.” Ruby began twisting and turning, Jordan let her back down. “If it involves constant nagging, then no.”

     “Freedom! Look at this!” Scarlett fanned her hand through the air. “So many artifacts that helped women wander off the grid.” Scarlett was jealous of their journeys, no secret there. “A chance at a life away from terrible marriages and motherhood.” She went as far as to stick her tongue out at their daughter.

     An awful shrill exited Ruby’s lips. Jordan, once again holding Ruby, moved in centimeters from his wife – with his teeth tightly clenched, he whispered. “I tell you what, you ungrateful wench. When we get home, you can pack your bags, grab you a compass, GPS, whatever your preferred method of guidance. Mount you a horse or you can even plop your tail down in the front seat of that Jeep I paid for. But, when I tell you this, know I mean it with everything in me. Don’t come around my daughter or my home again!”

     Scarlett gasped, stormed off, and asked for a refund for her less than desirable museum visit. She caught an uber home having convinced herself that Jordan wasn’t serious. 

Strong women sometimes need husbands.

    

Let me say, I know this is not a Volkswagen but in my story it is. 😁

Vampire Wagon

The sky was covered in clouds, a subtle breeze brought life into my soul – or – lack thereof. I loved the formation of a morning thunderstorm. I…can…. day-walk, only if it’s overcast, a gift passed down to me from my maker. Most of my kind slept in the a.m., where I could enjoy the morning’s finest brew.

I found it pleasurable to take walks, my cane clacking against the concrete with each step, not a human around, as if the day were made especially for me. That was – until the dark, soothing ambience was suddenly interrupted by a hideous, colorful thing. I gasped, stopped my movement, felt the tail from my suit-coat smack me on the bottom. I jumped a few steps forward. “Woooh.” My inches long fingernail went straight into my mouth, old habits die hard, if at all. I tilted my head at the thought of my own brilliance, wondering if I were ever someone’s habit, maybe not, but an obsession, surely.  “Hmmmm… what in the hippie, retro, mind-blowing, ethnocentricity is this?” I’ve been walking this earth for three hundred and seventy-two years and never have I ever seen such. 

I moved closer, four wheels, terribly small wheels, and windows. I leaned forward to see inside. Yes, a steering wheel. I ran my fingers over the chrome lettering. V. w.  Of course, it’s a Vampire Wagon. I’ve heard of these things. I opened the hood to examine the specimen and what to my wandering eyes should appear? Nothing! Not a blasted thing! The engine was in the trunk! The vehicle was being used as a flowerpot. Angrily, I spun around and tossed it across four blocks. “I haaaaate people!” I left my top hat, a fitting exchange, maybe they would plant a fern in it. “Tisk!”

Kasidy is now live

“Let me position this thing correctly……Hello, can everyone see me?”

Jeannie joined

“Good…. Hey there, cousin……… I’m sure I could’ve chosen a better spot for this but at the end, you’ll see the location’s purpose…… Isn’t this dyed blue water lovely? A large sprawling tree and tons of weeds……. Insect laced, I’m sure………….Hello, Nate. Thanks for joining.”

48 people are watching

“Oh, great, the more the merrier. Like and share this post. Make it go viral………..What is this? …….. I suppose……. The earth, returning all my beautiful thoughts. The thoughts and memories that no one had any interest in………. Hey Gregg! Have you ever seen water this blue? Isn’t it amazing?”

156 people are watching

“It’s no secret that I love trees, I climbed them when I was little, hid behind them as a teen. As an adult, I still feel protected by the shade the monstrosity provides. Sometimes, I look towards the sky, squinting my eyes at the rays of sunshine that force their way through the leaves and branches.”

4,659 people are watching

“Wow! This is amazing! You guys must know what’s going on here……..Shelley…. Welcome!…………The outdoors, all of this, it no longer does anything for me. I’m saddened to have lost my drive. I’m stuck in a fast-moving society of self-gratifying lunatics who call me crazy. So, for your pleasure, please indulge in the greatest narrative I’ll ever create.”

10,904 people are watching

“Hey, Marshal! Thanks for asking…… Yes, it is a pearl handle.”

14,391 people are watching

“When I fall, the red will mix with the blue, making the water purple. It’ll definitely be a work of art, hopefully you can find a story in this.”

25,546 people are watching

*VIDEO HAS BEEN REMOVED DUE TO GRAPHIC CONTENT. *

The morning sun began to rise, sending a cotton-like fog across the bridge covered water. It reminded Hugh of the early morning coffee he and Stella enjoyed together at least twice a week.

They’d allowed their feet to dangle from the edge at a time when they were still dangerously in love.

Their meetings chanced the discovery of a frowned upon relationship, Hugh, fifty-one, Stella, barely nineteen, found themselves trapped by what one could give the other. Hugh’s experience was mind blowing for the young lady, and her lack there of, did the same for him, something that could’ve bonded them forever.

Their cricket baited hooks vigorously splashed into the murky water as they cast their rods, the sound always sent Hugh’s hand immediately to Stella’s. A gentle touch was how it always began.

Hugh would laugh, claiming worms would’ve lured a more significant catch, right before his lips would meet hers. Truthfully, neither cared to reel in anything, except one another.

Hugh wasn’t shocked when he drove by Stella skipping down the sidewalk, tugging on the hand of a younger guy. She turned to give her old friend a subtle nod.

Hugh chuckled, stopped at the light, geared down and let the engine of his fifty-nine bel air rumble. Hugh knew that her memories of him would keep her satisfied for years to come.

Since that day, he’s not left the lake empty handed and that’s just fine with him. You win some, you lose some but you always remember the good ones.

I was drawn in by the phenomenal architect of the centuries old cathedral. The town swarmed with rumors that the church had eyes, aware of all man’s secrets. I paid the fee to join the very first group to tour the house of worship once it was opened to the public.

The last person to enter, the metal doors slammed behind me. I turned to look, realizing there was no longer an exit, a wall now stood in its place. Entertainment of some sort, I assumed. Dust particles swarmed in the multicolored light as the sun beamed through the stained glass.

A bitter cold took over the room, I rubbed my arms to minimize the feeling. A gust of stale air passed by me, I could feel the presence of those once here, the harsh stare from above, a judgement cast down within these walls.

The people in front of me chattered loud unintelligible words, mimicking the buzz of a stinging bee. I smacked the back of my neck, tickled from what felt like heavy breathing against my bare skin, I pivoted slightly to find an empty space.

I returned to a forward facing position. The other guests trapped me in a perfectly formed circle, their faces melted into long, pale, ghostly images. Their jabber no longer foreign as each called out my every sin, taunting me with the acts.

A deep, sinister laugh carried my attention to the ceiling. A wrinkled and ancient priest hovered above, reciting a right of passage, the floor crumbled and burst open, swallowing me up into a pit of fire.

“An eternity awaits you, my brother.” A two-horned creature grasped my shoulder.

I’m eighty-five, memory’s failing me, but the events of that day will never escape my mind’s eye. 

The sun was just waking up, sending a pinkish hue across the city. It was a Sunday morning; folks were preparing to start their day. Most would head to the church building for service.

I could smell the bacon frying as I looked in the mirror, struggling to tie my tie. I went to her, my wife of fourteen years… at the time. Let’s see, our twin boys were nine, yep, fourteen years. I believe we’ve been married for sixty-three years, now. I’ve never taken my wedding band off. 

She graciously fixed my clothing and then sent me to the store for the eggs she had forgotten. 

I had a problem that I couldn’t tell anyone about. I knew for a fact Millie didn’t have a clue, that’s my wife’s name, Millie. I kissed her cheek, headed out and caught a glimpse of one of those family-less urchins. I offered him a ride and a tiny box of lemonheads; I kept a stash in my glove compartment. I only needed him for a few minutes and then the town would have one less throw-away child. 

My plans were foiled when Deputy Forsythe pulled up beside me, knowing my intentions, he stared me straight in the eyes. 

I sped off, rounded the corner and crashed into the light pole at the town’s entrance. I felt my spirit escape when my body shattered the windshield. The force sent me flying directly into the pole. I can still be seen if the lighting’s right. 

My wife and boys have never visited, making this place much worse than hell. 

I hear all the mean things people say about me. 

I suppose I’m a trapped tourist attraction.

Everyone was laughing, dancing, twirling their partners around in the sunset. Most of us glad for a break from a hopelessness that had recently engulfed our minds – A natural disaster brought on by the extreme heat they told us didn’t exist. The ground shook, structures tumbled, limited aide sent the town squirming into limbo.

I lost everything, wife, kids and the goldfish that swam in the clear bowl. The tiny plastic green plant submerged in the tap water couldn’t hide Rufus from his fate. He flopped on the dry floor once his habitat shattered in pieces – until he didn’t flop anymore.

I blamed myself for not being there, foolish enough to believe the lies I was fed about the job offer that subtracted me from the ones I loved most.

My family would benefit greatly from the income, class us up a notch. The agreement, half would be paid up front and the other half when completed. Me and my team built the rock wall as promised, but final payment still hadn’t been issued.

My buddy, Roosevelt, swallowed his pride, got revenge, knocked a hole in the stone barrier and celebrated his wedding reception amidst the partial ruins.

Now, I’m standing here, tipsy, staring through the demolition, out across the mountains and the only thing that comes to mind is a children’s Christmas poem. Slurring my speech, I recited it. “What before my wandering eyes should appear, a sleigh with eight tiny reindeer.” Or something like that.

I leaned my head over on the stones, nearing unconsciousness, I figured it all sounded about right, some sort of cruel, fake Santa Claus was probably behind all the evil in this world.

“We waited to enter the ride. There were a few people in front of us, but some were getting turned away because they weren’t tall enough.” Barney was a fifteen-year-old student from Mossdale High. His class was on their year-end field trip to The Royal Amusement Park. He was now being questioned by local police because his best friend Percy didn’t make it back from the two-seater ferry ride that began inside a hollow, water-filled mock castle. 

“Did you and Percy have a fight?” Detective Reynolds tapped his ballpoint pen against the table. They hadn’t charged Barney with anything, but had him secluded in a park office.

“Never!” Barney’s legs bounced nervously.

“Mmmmm.” Reynolds replied.

“Oh, Barney! What’s going on?” Barney’s mother burst through the door, ran to her child and wrapped her arms around him. “You shouldn’t question a boy without his mother present.” She harshly pointed her finger towards the detective.

“Ma’am, we’re trying to find out what went on out there. Your son was the only one with Percy.”

“What happened to Percy? Tell your mother.” Her stern look held a protective meaning.

“There’s a monster on the island, when we rounded the corner, he jumped out and grabbed Percy from the boat!” The boy began to cry. “I covered my eyes!” Barney screamed in horror.

 

Weeks later, a homeless man, resembling a monster was found camping on the park’s island. He admitted guilt in Percy’s murder. Barney was released into his mother’s custody after weeks incarcerated with the criminally insane.

 

“How’d you get someone to live there and confess, mom?” 

“We never share our secrets, so when asked, we don’t have to lie.” His mother smiled and patted his back. The old green station wagon pulled off. 

 

“Why’d you name me Barney?”

“It’s sophisticated.” She smiled.