https://amazon/author/onebrickshy RUSSELL POND, conclusion, edited...///The tip of a feather quill had slipped out of a hole in the pillow and gored the skin on the back of his neck; his blood which seeped down his neck and tickled him is what awoke him. The heavy raindrops in the darkness outside pound the tin roof of the shack, falling in rapid, relentless succession, until the rain evolved into a continuous thud over the rafters, like the sound of legions of drums with no relapse of time between the strokes of the drummers. Forks of lightning sizzled in the gloom like the dancing arteries of an indignant angel... The lightening lit up the darkness outside the window in unusual long spans, like some nefarious angel had got control of the air and was turning on and off a “luciferious” spotlight in the heavens where the birds fly and shining a ghastly daylight onto the earth. When the outdoors brightened he saw the graveyard greenery in the rain washed to a biting brilliance, and inside…. His stepmother was in her bed by her curtain less window,... It was an old fashioned bed with springs that squeaked... She sat up against it in her white, see through nightgown, slightly hunched at her shoulders with her arms around her knees. The small, iron stove was the only object in the room between her bed and his bed roll…. In the quiet flashes of lightening that illuminated the room, and then lingered with quivering, faint glows before they faded, he saw her; in fact, he faced her, though she faced that wall that blocked the kitchen from her view. She turned her head slowly and smiled at him. He thought he saw a sparkle of kindness in her pretty, brown eyes. Or perhaps she was drunk. And then the room went black... When the room lit up in the darkness once more, she was staring at him. Staring at his bed roll, into his eyes, he could not tell. For that moment her eyes seemed friendly, seemed kind, before they were hidden by the night again. But each time she returned with the lightening they changed. Slowly her gaze began to change, until she seemed to want to kiss him. Or remove the gown in front of him. She had the same enchanting smile he had seen her give his father and the other men, always before the bed squeaked…. In the shimmers of light which followed, the luster in her copper colored brown eyes made him uncomfortable, as a menacing power from them taxied across the room, bringing him under their control. His face muscles lightened and his neck and arms stiffened. He found he could not hide himself from her or turn his head to look away. He could not even close his eyes. Inch by inch, shimmer by shimmer, her countenance crawled into a mood he was uncertain of. Her face was calm. Too calm for the force in her stare, that kept getting stronger, mutating into a glare. Her face was in a slow crawl, creeping, going somewhere unpleasant, he did not know. Her expression, following the dementia in her mind, was in no more hurry to get where it was going than the storm was to leave Cooper County. But her smile did not seem so sweet anymore. It had deviated into a fiendish smirk. Her smile seemed to betray she wanted to slash his throat. And then he saw what the force in her gaze was all about. Sheer hatred of him! The devil was in her eyes! And the eyes were attacking him!
Posted on: Fri, 20 Sep 2013 17:56:25 +0000
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