The sun rose and began its languid trip around the sky. Its light stretched among the woods, finding hidden spaces, covering others in new shadows. Dawn’s warm yellow glow didn’t capture the way the frigid air stopped your breath, or how on really early mornings if you didn’t keep the air in your mouth for a little while it would sting your lungs. On November mornings, the world was still quiet.
It started that night like most other nights. We were out a little too late on a country road. There were four of us squeezed into the little car.
These were not good times. At least not anymore. Most of the dark period was over, but the rebuilding process was slow. They said it would be a long time until things were like they were before.
I was meeting my wife at the house. It was the perfect one, at least what we saw of it online. It was older, and it had all of the character that we’d been looking for. The last three houses we’d seen were in cookie cutter, new construction subdivisions, and neither of us felt great about the options. Though, I did like the amount of room the modern houses left for a new television.
The fire crackled and spit. John had a bad habit of putting wet logs in the flames. I’ve told him several times that the dry wood was on the right, but John is both dull and lazy so now I get to watch for popping embers. One ember shot in between Jesse’s feet. She was also sometimes dull, but was much more palatable than her boyfriend.
The first time she felt it happen it was with fire. She was writing in her notebook, and she put down words. Feelings more like it.
It was the last weekend before graduation. They did what most teenagers do. Sam’s family had a lake house that they rarely used. Her parents didn’t even question why she wanted the keys they were too busy with other things.
Have you ever asked the question, what would happen if someone competent was in a horror movie? I mean how many times have you yelled at the screen, “Don’t go in there!”