All That Was Left of Penny
It was no great thing for Penny to clamber from her bedroom window to the ground below. She had done it more than once with her skirts on; in this approved apparel anything seemed possible, anything but being a lady. That hope was done with forever. She had crossed the line now. Before her lay—she hardly knew what—but the thought chased the fun from her face.
Penny Takes Her Own Way
“Elizabeth?” “Yes ma’am.” “Hast thou aired thy bed and prayed in private, earnestly seeking forgiveness for thy sins of yesterday?” Mrs. Lane came down the long hall and eyed with disapproval the girl sitting idly on the top step of the porch.
Penny Loses Her Father
PennyyyyBefore there was a Debian, there was a Penny Mason, and with her we must deal first. One July morning, over a hundred years ago there stood in a forlorn room of a log house in Plymouth, a tall, severe looking woman in rich apparel, and a ragged desperate child of fourteen. On the floor in a drunken stupor, lay a man.
Matrimony at Kairouan
As soon as the bridal pair had disappeared the crowd turned its friendly attention to us, and I thought we should never fight our way through the mob of women. I caught a glimpse of the young Englishwoman in a perfect maelstrom of females, her hat off, her blouse almost torn from her shoulders. I waded to her with difficulty as one might through heavy surf, and laughing and breathless we at last got clear and out into the open air. The Englishmen and Hassan had had to stay outside, only women being allowed in. “And was the bride very beautiful?” Hassan asked with romantic interest. He told us the feast that would take place next day would be a great one: half a sheep roasted, cakes and sweetmeats of every kind.
The Haunting of Self [Part II]
About ten minutes pass, and I remember being in a state of dreamy haze when out of the corner of my eye, I could make out a figure that resembled Ava, my Turkish Angora who usually sleeps with me, perked up. She was staring intently at me, fiercely meowing, tail firmly straight and up as if she was gearing to attack. I wanted to tell her to stop, but what escaped my mouth sounded more like deep painful wailing. I then made out what sounded like a hazy knocking. About 20-30 minutes must have passed without me having any recollection of my actions, when I found myself sweaty in my bed again.
The Haunting of Self [Part I]
Dear Nathaniel, I just want to preface this email by saying that what you are about to read is 100% true. Believe me or not, what's written down is a true occurrence that happened just this morning. I believe you’re an expert on this subject matter and I want your help to clear out my confusion.
I sat at the bar, waiting on my beer and watching the college football game play out on the big, flatscreen TV. The bar was pretty much empty. Well, it was a Monday afternoon, after all. Most people would be headed home to rest before the next day’s work, unable to afford any of the heavy drinking that the majority of them came here to do. But me, I liked a quiet drink before heading home. It was a good place to decompress after a hard day’s work at the construction site, and that happened to be what I needed on that particular afternoon.
Mother, Leave me alone
When I was twelve years old, my mom walked out on my family. I was the one who found the note. It was short, and said that while she loved me, my dad, and my brother, she wasn't happy and needed to be somewhere else. She promised she'd call as soon as she was settled and had a phone. As most walk-outs followed by short notes go, we never saw her again.
Nightmare in the Flesh
I awoke with a start from a nightmare. I couldn’t remember what it was but it had been something very terrifying. My breath caught painfully in my throat and I sat up like a bolt in the bed. My eyes hadn’t adjusted yet but I could tell something tall was standing at the door. I reached over to shake my husband, silently but firmly, all the while keeping my adjusting eyes on the figure watching us. Just as he woke and moaned a groggy “Whu? Hunh izzit?”, the thing in the doorway lumbered away with a lopsided gait.