|Mystery Tour (standard:horror, 3776 words)|
|Author: eddiesolo||Added: Nov 02 2003||Views/Reads: 1738/1040||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|The devil returns to claim some evil old folk.|
MYSTERY TOUR (A SHORT STORY) BY SIMON MURPHY Mavis Butterworth winced as she bent to pick up the post that lay on the doormat. She lingered slightly in the stooped position as she placed an arthritic hand on her hip. Mavis took a deep breath and straightened. “Oh, me poor bones, there getting worse you know,” she announced to no one. She shuffled into the kitchen and placed the pearl coloured envelope on the yellow melamine tabletop. She pulled out a chair and plonked down onto the stained seat pad. “Now then what can you be?” she asked the envelope as she clasped her gnarled fingers around the handle of a brown teapot and poured some over brewed tea into a cracked china teacup. After adding a drop of milk and then two heaped teaspoons of sugar she slowly stirred the brown liquid. She stared at the envelope through large tortoise shell rimmed glasses as she brought the slightly shaking teacup up to her thin lips and sipped the brew noisily. “I bet it's my telegram from the queen,” she exclaimed excitedly. “Oh, silly me, I'm only eighty-two not a hundred,” she said shaking her head. She gingerly picked up the envelope and opened it. Mavis slid the contents out and placed the now empty envelope back onto the table. “I can't see a thing, where's my glasses,” she looked around for her reading glasses. “It's no good, I'll have to get a new pair I can't go on without my glasses you know,” she muttered to herself. “Go and lose me head if it wasn't attached,” she scolded as she squinted through the lenses at the large words on the piece of paper. Mavis slowly read the words and then placed the piece of paper onto the tabletop. “Oh that's nice I've won a trip to go on a mystery tour, I wonder where it will go?” she mused as she sipped her strong tea. Derek Paterson smiled as he closed and locked the door to number twenty-two Rochester Grove. He paused and looked up at the sky for a moment, it had been over four years since he had taken a trip anywhere. He had at first thrown the envelope and its contents into the bin but something kept nagging him to go and retrieve it, he did, and then he opened it. He started to read the letters contents and snorted. ‘Why the hell would anybody want to give away a free mystery tour, all expenses paid?' he thought as he read the words. “Poppycock, load of twaddle, you get nothing for free, it's a bloody con,” Derek exclaimed to Horace who looked up at him and meowed. He screwed up the letter and tossed it back into the bin and walked into the kitchen to feed Horace. He opened a tin of cat food and started to spoon some out into the cat's dish when he suddenly stooped and stood slowly. “You know maybe a trip would be nice, I'll go and pack a few things,” he said trance like to the cat as it arched it's back and hissed at him, he placed the tin on the table and disappeared upstairs. Back in the kitchen Horace stopped hissing and spitting and glared after the man. Charles Clearwater drained the last of the gin and threw the empty bottle into a bush. “Daaaaaaaaamn,” he slurred as he watched the bottle bounce on the turned earth and disappear into the thick foliage. He stood and swayed slightly as he looked around the now dark deserted park. He cursed himself for not getting another cheap bottle of plonk from the supermarket to see him through the night, the thirst would soon come and it would last until the shops opened and he could sooth it with a swig of Gordon's finest. He prided himself in the fact that he only drank Gordon's gin but the truth was that he would down anything he could afford and get his hands on. “D...daa...aaaaaaamn, andshh...andshhhhhh, blashhhhhhhhhhhhht,” Charles stammered as he plodded towards an empty park bench and fell on to it. Click here to read the rest of this story (394 more lines)
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