sylvia stands at the window

by fan taser

sylvia stood at the window, wondering what had become of jeffrey. a dog ran down the street, barking furously at every living creature it encountered, as well as a few inanimate objects. a man holding his straw hat on to his head so that it would not blow away. chased after the dog. the man reminded sylvia in a vague way of horatio, her deceased betrothed, who had perished heroically in the great battle of t——————, of which so much has been written and sung. jeffrey may have his faults, such as perpetual tardiness, sylvia mused, but at least he is not an irredeemable brute like horatio. the man chasing the dog down the street and holding his hat on his head was named peter petrovich muldoon. he was a plausible rascal who was determined to marry an heiress of more than adequate means. the dog was known as hiram, or so he had been christened by peter petrovich, who had rescued him from the streets in a fit of black melancholy, when peter petrovich had been walking the streets of hamburg, waiting for a tap on the shoulder that would return him to his native land where he was wanted for sedition and conspiracy. a dog, thought peter petrovich. the dossiers on me in the various information ministries of the continent - none of them would mention a dog! therefore he resolved to adopt hiram, and though he had some difficulty overcoming the dog’s innately suspicious nature, managed to do so. how long ago it seemed! actually it was only six weeks ago, when he had stood on the dock at copenhagen under a blue sky beribboned with fleecy clouds and looked over the sparkling blue-gray waters and been waved through customs by the ruddy faced golden mustachioed customs officer, who had exclaimed, “what a fine looking beast! “on seeing hiram. so now peter petrovich and hiram had for six weeks enjoyed the pure free air of britain, land without guile, where the “bobby” was your friend and wished you a cheery good morning, instead of an ill-nourished ruffian in a tightly-belted trenchcoat, bent on revenge against what remained of civilization. so if hiram was feeling a bit out of sorts - from boredom perhaps? - and inclined to run a little bit amok, peter petrovich was not enraged but rather sympathetic, and chased him down the green country lane with something resembling a wistful smile. just as peter petrovich and hiram disappeared around the bend in the road, julia walked into the parlor and interrupted sylvia’s revery. “i seem to have lost my scissors,” julia anounced to sylvia, in the peremptory way she could never completely lose. “help me find them, if you please.” is this all there is? thought sylvia, watching men chase dogs down the street while holding their hats on their head, and finding lost pairs of scissors? but aloud she said, “certainly, julia, i am sure they are here somewhere. ”

mrs fleming

by fan taser

marian always liked the island because it was so quiet and peaceful, and because the other guests kept to themselves, and were not intrusive and always asking her questions about herself. an older woman whose name marian understood to be mrs fleming was especially quiet. marian did not think she had ever heard her speak at all. one pleasant afternoon, marian was seated at a table on the veradah with an excellent view of the sea, sipping a lemonade and reading a book she had taken from the hotel’s library, a book she was unfamiliar with, by an author she had never heard of. mrs flleming was seated at another table, about eighteen meters closer to the railing of the verandah, and to the sea. the book by the author marian was not familiar with was not terribly engrossing, and she paused more than once to gaze at the sea and the sky. mrs fleming was in her line of vision as she did so. marian began to have a curious feeling that mrs fleming had not moved at all, throughout the afternoon. she found herself glancing up at the still figure of the old woman, more and more. this will never do, marian thought. i have never liked to think of myself as a busybody. finally, on an impulse, she put her book down on the table and approached to within a meter of mrs fleming. the old woman was completely motionless. marian went inside the hotel and approached the desk clerk. do you see that woman seated out there? marian pointed to mrs fleming. i believe her name is mrs fleming. ah, mrs fleming, the clerk replied. what about her? i believe she is dead. oh, yes, mrs fleming has been dead for years. she has? yes, many of the guests have been dead for quite some time but - why does she not … fall apart? decompose? i know the air is healthy here, bur even so… oh, we have a special serum for that. one of the attendants goes around to the dead guests every morning before dawn and gives them an injection which keeps them inoffensive for the rest of the day. really? marian said. i never knew such a thing existed. there are probably many things you do not know, madam, the clerk replied politely.

the creepy guy

by fan taser

laurel had just pushed allie on a long arc on the swing when she saw the creepy guy walking past the playground. the playground was located on a small hill. a wire fence separated the hill from the sidewalk. a large sign almost covering the fence announced that the area was a playground maintained by the town. laurel had not seen the man looking at allie or the other children and mothers but she knew he must have been. in the three months since she had moved into the neighborhood and been bringing allie to the playground on a regular basis, she had never seen anyone other than mothers or children or an occasional nanny or babysitter enter the playground. she had never seen a single man in the playground. no “house husbands” or “stay at home dads”, just women and children. as for the sidewalk, she did not know, now that she thought about it, if she had ever seen anybody on it, other than mothers bringing children to the playground. most of the mothers, including laurel herself, drove over and parked behind the playground on the other side from the sidewalk. so seeing a man at all on the sidewalk came as something of a shock. laurel took a deep breath. you are imagining things, she told herself. after all, she did not get a really good look at the man. maybe he had a good excuse for walking around on the street by himself. maybe his car had broken down, and he had to walk home. no, that was ridiculous. if his car broke down, he would call triple a, and wait for them. and besides she had seen the guy, brief as her glance had been. and he was creepy! * there was nothing else for it. laurel knew abel would not take her seriously. but she would have to tell him before going to the police herself. “there was a creepy guy hanging around the playground today,” laurel told abel when he got home from work, as he was hanging up his jacket. “oh?” abel had that eyebrow raising look he had on his face every time laurel told him something. “hanging around how? was he actually talking to the kids? did he do anything?” laurel hesitated. abel sat down on the couch with a suppressed weary sigh. “what was creepy about him? did anybody else think he was creepy?” laurel described what had happened. as she had anticipated, abel was incredulous, but he tried not to laugh, or to shout at her. “so all the guy did was walk past, he didn’t even come into the playground, and you hardly even saw his face?” “he was creepy. i could feel it.” abel knew enough to never contradict laurel directly. “so what do you want to do about it? are you going to stop going to the playground?” “i thought about going to the police.” “i don’t think - i don’t think they will give you much satisfaction,” abel said carefully. “they might want a little more to go on.” “it is worth a try.” “then do what you got to do.” abel got up and headed to the kitchen. all in all, abel’s response had been a little better than laurel expected. she resolved to call the police in the morning, after abel left for work. * laurel called the local police. the person - and to her surprise, it was a person and not an automated message - who answered listened to her story and was polite and asked if it would be more convenient for her to come to the station or to have someone come to her home. laurel arranged for a careperson for allie and went to the police station. the station seemed a quiet place, almost like a doctor’s office. from watching tv, laurel expected to meet one male and one female police person, and this proved to be the case. johnson was a man and morris was a woman. they both wore plain clothes. they introduced themselves as “officers”, not detectives. they listened without interruption as laurel told of her encounter with the creepy guy at the playground. morris, the woman, listened with folded hands. johnson, the man, used a pen on a notepad but laurel thought he was just doodling. laurel saw right away that they were a typical male-female duo - the man “humoring” the woman but obviously contemptuous. johnson had a hard time concealing his contempt for laurel’s story, literally rolling his eyes a couple of times. finally, acting as if it were having a hard time not spitting out what he said, he asked, “so this person never spoke to you, or said anything to anybody that you heard of or know of, and you did not get a good look at his face?” “no, but i felt something. he frightened me.” “did anybody else at the playground notice anything, or say anything about him?” “not that i noticed.” “and you did not follow him, to see where he was going?” “no. that - that did not occur to me. i was just so relieved that he was gone.” “and so far as you know, you never saw him before.” “i am positive i never saw him before.” “do you think he could be a relative of, or staying with anybody that you know?” johnson continued to doodle on his notepad. “no.” laurel hesitated. “that did not occur to me.” “i see. well, ms lee, i am sorry but i really don’t see what we can do for you, unless you can come up with something more for us to work with.” morris, the woman spoke up. “we realize this must be very distressing for you, and we wish we could be more helpful. please don’t hesitate to call us if you have anything else to share with us. you called us from your home phone, can you give us your cell phone number?” or a work phone?” “yes, of course. i will give you my cell phone.” “would you rather we called on the cell phone? you would? good. and i will give you my private cell number.” “thank you.” laurel did not know if this was standard procedure or if morris was showing her some special consideration, johnson got up abruptly and left the room. “i will walk you to the door,” morris told laurel. when they reached the door, morris looked around, and in a low voice told laurel, “i will call you tonight.” surprised, laurel just nodded a thank you. well, that was something, she thought. not much, but something. * true to her word, morris called that night and arranged to meet laurel at the playground the next afternoon. when abel asked laurel who had called, she told him, not wishing to keep anything from him. abel expressed surprised at this development, but did not pursue the subject, and the evening passed without either of them mentioning it again. the next day morris showed up as promised. as they had agreed, laurel introduced morris to a couple of the other moms who were there as “a friend” but morris’s identity as a policeperson was not revealed. the creepy guy did not show up. morris did not seem surprised, and told laurel that she would come back for an another afternoon the next time she was free, which was in three days but for laurel to call her if the creepy guy showed up again. laurel and morris got to know each other in the next couple of weeks as morris came to the playground whenever she was able. morris became “debbie’. however, as the weeks went by, the creepy guy did not show up. laurel began to think she would never see him again. laurel and debbie had become such good friends that laurel took for granted that they would continue to see each other even if the creepy guy never surfaced or was heard of again. * eight months went by. laurel and debbie grew closer together. laurel told abel that she wanted a divorce, and he readily agreed. he also agreed that laurel could have sole custody of allie. laurel and allie moved in with debbie, and when the divorce was finalized laurel and debbie got married. abel came to the wedding. some of his friends also attended, including a few laurel did not think she had ever been introduced to before. but she thought one of them looked familiar.

4 stories

a story by bofa xesjum it is the year ———— the universe is divided into two warring camps, the ———————— and the ——————— the ———————— have ———————— and are ————————— the ———————— have ———————— and are ————————— after over a thousand years of warfare, the ————————— are on the verge of a great breakthrough. the capital of the ————————— empire, on its home planet of ———————, is in immediate danger. ——————————, a young ——————— in the ————————— army, receives a summons from the great ruler. ——————————, a young ——————— in the ————————— navy, receives a summons from the great ruler. the young——————————— from the—————————— empire is sent on a last desperate mission. the young ————————————from the ------ empire is charged by the great ruler with stopping the last desperate mission of the young ——————— from the ------- empire. it has come to this. where are the dreamers, the artists, the poets, the philosophers, the intrepid explorers , the architects of empire, the inventors, the transformers of reality? where are they now? it has come to this.

the rivals by nick nelson smith was just finishing his memorandum when he heard a rap on his office door. who could it be? he wondered. the staff knew he was not be disturbed when he was composing his memorandum in the morning. “yes, come in,” he called but before the words were out of his mouth jones burst in. terrible news, sir, jones exclaimed breathlessly. please close the door behind you, jones. jones closed the door. “what is it this time, jones?” smith asked. “a ———— sir! a ———— is heading straight for the ——————— !” “i rather doubt that,” smith replied in his trademark dry tone. “but it is! it is! you have always hated me, haven’t you, jones? and this is your last pathetic attempt to discredit me. well, i am having none of it. you are ————————— suddenly ——————————— a great —————————————— it was over.

the dawn by corinne delmonico as pete and the child walked down the highway, the sound of the sirens in the burning town behind them began to fade away… and the dawn began to come up. “do you begin to understand now?” the child asked pete. “i do,” pete answered. “i understand now. it is only through the party that anything will ever be accomplished. we are part of the problem or we are part of the solution.” “and the party is the solution,” the child added. “the only solution” the dawn came up.

the pink house by fan taser the pink house stood on the hill. nobody was ever seen going in or out of it. when annabelle was a little girl, she walked past it every day on her way to school. when she graduated from high school and got a job at the chicken farm, she drove past it every day on her way to work. when she married henry and had the twins, she pushed the double stroller past it every day when she took the twins and the dog out for some fresh air. she never saw anybody go in or out of the pink house, or any sign of life around it. someday, she thought, i will go up and knock on the door and see if anybody is home.

brand new rope

by fan taser

jennifer called her mother, as she did every saturday at noon. she told her about robert’s proposal. o honey, that is wonderful! that is the most wonderful news i have ever heard! i am so happy for you. well, don’t get too excited. he just asked me, that’s all. i didn’t say yes. not yet, you mean. well, maybe not ever. i haven’t decided. haven’t decided? are you serious ? what’s to decide? robert is a wonderful catch for any girl. i can just guarantee you you will never get a better one. just consider. he is a) rich b) rich c) rich d) a little bit famous e) knows a lot of the right people f) is good-looking and in good shape g) dresses nice h) is a gentleman i) isn’t too old j) went to harvard k) seems to sort of respect women and l) isn’t a slob, at last not in public. so what more do you want? i don’t know. it just that he is… he is… you know… no, i do not know. he is what? he’s just… kind of an asshole. and that’s a problem? as my dad used to say, some people will complain if they get hanged with a brand new rope. surely you are not serious about turning him down. jennifer wished she had not made the call. well, she had to call, she called every saturday, she just wished she had not mentioned the proposal. i don’t know, she said. let me think about it. i will talk to you next week. don’t think about it too long. a guy like robert can find plenty of other girls. and with that, jennifer’s mother began a long description of her sister peggy’s latest legal problems * a year later. robert was long gone, and had married a woman five years older than himself, whom he had known for years, since she had been a bartender at a club he and his buddies had frequented when they were underage, when they were still in prep school. jennifer’s mother had stopped talking about robert, but jennifer still felt kind of bad about letting her down, especially as her mother could have used some of robert’s money for legal and medical bills of her own. and jennifer just felt kind of depressed in general, because life sucked. suddenly, she had an idea. an idea for something that would at least break the monotony of her miserable existence. she would go out in the street and ask the first man she saw if he would like to marry her. ha ha ha! think i don’t know how to play the newlywed game? well, check this out, my friends! well.. not absolutely the first guy she saw… not somebody old or smelly or a complete homeless bum … somebody you could at least walk down the street with without being stared at… jennifer woke up the next day at her usual time, around two o’clock, and decided to put her plan into effect and not give herself the chance to get cold feet. * jennifer went down to the street and started walking toward the corner. there were people standing there, like they were waiting for the bus. right away she saw a guy who might suit her purpose. not real real old, 28 or 29 maybe, dressed halfway like a slob but not homeless bum dirty. wearing a baseball cap, but it was straight on his head. not gym fit, but not fat either. he was not hideously ugly, but ordinary enough that he should be properly flattered by the attention of a female as fit and well conditioned as jennifer. perfect. excuse me, jennifer addressed him, can i ask you a question? sure. the man did not seen too surprised by jennifer’s talking to him, and was not quite as awed by jennifer’s person as he should have been. would you like to marry me? ha ha. he did not laugh, but spoke the words ha ha. no, i am serious, jennifer told him. any particular reason you are asking me? i just decided i would go out today and ask the first man i saw to marry me. do you have a problem with that? no, i think it’s very impressively aggressive. too many people today don’t know what they really want. so you will do it? you will marry me? well, uh, will you expect me to support you? oh no, nothing like that. i have my own money. how nice. then i guess it’s a go, what is your name, by the way? jennifer smith. my name is brandon jones. jennifer offered brandon her hand and he took it and shook it, not too hard but not limp either. an older man and an older woman, standing apart from each other, were also waiting for the bus. neither gave any sign that they were listening to jennifer’s and brandon’ s curious conversation, or found it particularly interesting if they were. so, brandon asked, when do we put this great plan into effect? as soon as you like. do you know where we can get married? do we have to go to vegas or foxwoods or someplace like that? no, i have a friend who has a license to marry people. he got one of those preacher certificates in the mail. he can do the job, totally legal. ha ha, you sound like you have done this before. i might have, brandon answered wth a trace of a smile. i can call him right now, if you want. he’s a guy that doesn’t have a lot to do , i should be able to get hold of him. that sounds great. by the way, do i get a honeymoon out of this?” why, of course. what’s a marriage without a honeymoon? do you have anyplace in mind? as a matter of fact, i do. i have a little place of my own upstate. nothing fancy, but it’s private. nice and quiet. how convenient. i say, we go as soon as your friend marries us. if that suits you. i will go home and get packed, and we can meet somewhere. you can get hold of your preacher friend. all right. brandon pointed across the street, to a burger king. how about if we meet there, at five o’clock? that is perfect. any questions? brandon asked. until we meet again? um - are you a nice guy? nice enough. i am not a terrorist or a serial killer. i am glad to hear it. jennifer smiled at brandon, and turned and started back to her apartment. the bus came, and the man and woman who had apparently paid no attention to the conversation, got on it, leaving brandon to his thoughts. brandon had thought the whole thing was probably some kind of jimmy kimmel man in the street joke, and he would find a camera and a microphone in his face, but if it was, would it not have happened by now? maybe the girl, jennifer, was serious. it would not hurt to show up and find out. brandon did not really have “a friend” waiting at a moment’s notice to marry them, but he had a couple of numbers he could call for that purpose if he had to. and he did have a place upstate, a cabin way back in the hills. brandon had only been telling jennifer half the truth when he told her he was not a terrorist or a serial killer. he did not belong to any terrorist organization or any kind of organization, but he was a serial killer. one who prided himself on picking up halfway hot and innocent young women, not just hookers. he usually spent some time stalking them and setting them up, carefully getting them to trust him, trying to make sure they did not know his real name and such, or that he could be traced by their friends, if they had any. this was too good to be true. that was the problem. it was too easy. the fun was in the challenge. this was no fun. some people will complain if they get hanged with a brand new rope.

the empty house

by fan taser

emily had been married to frederick for several months, but continued to be surprised and gratified by evidence of his fabulous wealth, as well as by his attentiveness and devotion. emily’s mother, and her best friend, charlotte, had been skeptical of frederick when emily first met him. they professed to be puzzled by the fact that, despite his supposed great wealth, they could find no mention of his existence on the internet. emily explained to them, as frederick had explained to her - “frederick is one of the people who really own the world. those people you read about in the news and online, like bill gates and jeff bezos, they are just actors hired by the really rich people to play the part. so that people like frederick can enjoy their privacy.” one morning frederick suggested to emily that they drive up to one of frederick’s houses for the weekend, one that frederick had never mentioned before, near the canadian border. “another one!” emily laughed. “darling, you continue to amaze me.” “it’s just a little place,” frederick replied. “with what, about fifty rooms?” emily teased. “fifty or sixty. but it’s empty. i don’t use it much.” “completely empty?” emily asked. “somebody must take care of it.” “oh, there is a housekeeper, mrs wellesley. i suppose she hires some locals once in a while if something needs to be fixed, but basically it is just her. she won’t bother us. it will just be the two of us. she won’t even serve us at dinner if you don’t want her to. i will do the cooking.” “that sounds fabulous. you know how much i enjoy your cooking.” shortly after one o’clock, emily and frederick got into one of frederick’s ferraris - a light green 2017 gtc4lusso - and reached “the empty house” on the border just as dusk was falling. the house was completely surrounded by the tallest trees emily had ever seen. there was a detached garage almost hidden by the trees and frederick parked the ferrari in it and they carried their bags inside, where they were met by mrs wellesley, who looked as if she had just wakened from a nap. emily had wondered about “mrs wellesley”, a female living alone in the woods at frederick’s disposal, but was reassured at the sight of her. she looked about forty years and a bit on the heavy side. what a cow, emily thought, nothing to see here, folks. later, after the delicious dinner - one of frederick’s unique and effortlessly whipped up creations - frederick took out his phone and excused himself. he usually attended to the dreary business side of his existence for about an hour each day. left to herself, emily began wandering down the corridors of the house. frederick had described it as having “fifty or sixty” rooms but it seemed more like two hundred. the corridors were lined with old-fashioned oil paintings in heavy frames. they were mostly portraits, interspersed with a few paintings of horses, battles, and storms at sea. emily thought the people in the portraits looked very unattractive. i guess they didn’t have face lifts or botox back then, she thought, or even face cream. i must be tired, she thought, after that long drive, because as she looked at the people in the paintings they seemed to get even uglier and nastier looking, not even to be human any more, but demons or strange dragonny or lizardy creatures with big red and green and purple faces… and they started talking to each other and to emily… doesn’t even suspect, does she, poor thing… silly girl, you should have stayed at that internship at finley and finley… emily came to. she was lying on the floor of one of the corridors, with frederick and mrs wellesley bending over her. “darling,” frederick was saying. “you have had a long day. i knew we should have stopped on the way, instead of racing up here. what a fool i was. can you get up? mrs wellesley will take care of you.”” “i’ll be all right,” emily insisted. “i don’t need any help.” “mrs wellesley is a trained nurse,” frederick told her. “put yourself in her capable hands.” later, when frederick and mrs wellesley were driving back to the city, they stopped at a small restaurant just off the highway, where they were both well known. when the waitress had left with their order, mrs wellesley lit a cigarette. “what did you see in that one?” she asked frederick. “she hardly seemed worth it.” “you just keep doing what you do,” frederick told her. “and i will keep doing what i do.”