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|The Taxidermist (standard:horror, 1975 words)|
|Author: Michael Lance Kersting||Added: Apr 02 2009||Views/Reads: 2232/1742||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|All McGregor, author, wanted was a quiet place to write his stories.|
All McGregor wanted was a quiet place to write his horror stories. It was a small, quiet town in Georgia with many heritage houses from the Forties dotting the narrow streets. As the rackety bus pulled up at the depot stop Trevor MacGregor, writer, got off carrying a brown leather duffel bag. Just the place for me he thought looking around at the quiet surroundings. He noticed that there were not many people around and the few he saw were all resting in the shades from the blazing noon day sun. A mangy dog nearby stretched and looked at him straight in the eye yawned then scratched it's left ear which was slightly bitten off at the top and took off behind a store. McGregor took in a deep breath and sighed."What a relief to get away from the mad, hustle bustle of the noisy city. Unloading his luggage from the luggage compartment of the bus, he went in search of lodgings. He saw a man lounging in front of a hardware store and approached him. "Good day ,sir, I s there a guest house around here?" "Yeah, there sure is, young fella, try the "Knife and Fork," it's jes a block ahead. Tell the landlady that Mac sent you ." The old guy then spat some tobacco juice in a bucket standing nearby. McGregor thanked the man, and sauntered up the dusty streetchecking out the buildings. Finally, he found the place.It was a two storey building painted in white, with a well kept flower garden in front. The sign over the entrance read : " THE KNIFE AND FORK, BED AND BREAKFAST" in bold faded red letters. A little note beneath read : ‘Room to let “ in bold letters. McGregor walked up the three steps, crossed a small porch, and pushed the door open. A bell tinkled as he entered. The lobby was a bit gloomy looking, with stuffed animals and porcelain ornaments everywhere. He walked over to the small counter and put down his luggage. Eventually an elderly lady dressed in gray, emerged from a small door behind the mahogany counter. She was carrying a small pot of flowers in her bony hands. She had a pair of bright blue eyes and cotton white hair. Setting the plant pot gently on the counter, she brushed down her apron and said in a strong voice ‘Welcome, s ir, I am Mrs. Robinson, the landlady, what can I do for you?" " I am looking for a place to stay for a few days. I saw your sign and ...” He replied, nodding towards the front. The Landlady smiled, He seems quite a pleasant young man she thought " Well, young man, you are in luck. I do have vacant room to let. She turned an old register around to face him on the counter. "Will you please sign here" she said, pointing a bony finger at a line. McGregor took out a pen from his pocket, and signed his name, noticing that only two other tenants had registered previously. Both about a year ago, She looked at the signature. "It's five pounds a week, Mr. .McGregor, including meals"." She said and added "in advance." . "That will be fine." he replied, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He paid. Click here to read the rest of this story (218 more lines)
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