In 500 Words: Round Two!
As promised, here is the 500 short I mentioned earlier. I wrote it last week sometime. It is a continuation of the story from last time. Enjoy!
Dictionary.com's word of the day for the particular day I wrote it was apocryphal
It has been a week since that unfortunate road stop I took during that long and tedious drive. Her eerie prophesy of my death date and warped way with which she tricked me into thinking that she had moved my heart had me driving at an unnatural pace. Part of me was shocked that I wasn’t pulled over. I wasn’t able to make the trip in six. Stinging pain shot through my left arm after an hour into my newfound zeal for impaling my foot into the gas pedal.
The pain was gruesome to say the least, and I was forced to pull over at the next rest stop. From there, I was rushed to the nearest hospital. It pained me to answer their questions with honesty once I had come to. They told me that I had suffered a mild heart attack and snorted when I mentioned that strange woman. I suppose I couldn’t blame them for telling me that my tale was apocryphal in nature. Now that I look back, I feel that it was silly of me to even give that woman’s words and mannerisms merit.
I sit here, writing this out on bland hotel stationary because of the local paper. Call me old fashioned, but I do like to read the newspaper; especially when I’m traveling. I like to brush myself up with the goings on of whatever city I happen to be in. It wasn’t until three days ago that anything startling or of particular interest had caught my eye. Since then, I had kept the papers instead of recycling them. They are stacked on this desk near the stuffy reading lamp.
As archaic as this sounds, I want to keep a detailed record of my trip here, and of the…items I read in the police column, which have now grown into full blown articles. Yesterday’s paper featured a brief article about the “recent series of deaths caused by heart failure in Conner and the Angeles National forest near I5.” That was when I went back to the stack of papers that I was going to recycle this morning.
There were eight deaths in total, most of which happened in odd circumstances. I shuddered at the memory of her. Even though my inner skepticism was screaming at me to forget that insane maniac, I couldn’t help connect the deaths to her. I had suffered a mild heart attack not long after her weird, voodoo stance and promise of death!
I am scheduled to depart the LA area in two days, but I don’t want to go anywhere near that dreadful stretch of decadency ever again! Perhaps some advice is in order. One of my good friends is staying in this hotel (his room is on the second floor) for a sci-fi convention. I should talk to him about this. I want him to tell me that my wild tales are nothing but irrational fears born out of that wretched experience and coincidentally ill-timed heart attack.
Dictionary.com's word of the day for the particular day I wrote it was apocryphal
Delving into Matters at Hand
It has been a week since that unfortunate road stop I took during that long and tedious drive. Her eerie prophesy of my death date and warped way with which she tricked me into thinking that she had moved my heart had me driving at an unnatural pace. Part of me was shocked that I wasn’t pulled over. I wasn’t able to make the trip in six. Stinging pain shot through my left arm after an hour into my newfound zeal for impaling my foot into the gas pedal.
The pain was gruesome to say the least, and I was forced to pull over at the next rest stop. From there, I was rushed to the nearest hospital. It pained me to answer their questions with honesty once I had come to. They told me that I had suffered a mild heart attack and snorted when I mentioned that strange woman. I suppose I couldn’t blame them for telling me that my tale was apocryphal in nature. Now that I look back, I feel that it was silly of me to even give that woman’s words and mannerisms merit.
I sit here, writing this out on bland hotel stationary because of the local paper. Call me old fashioned, but I do like to read the newspaper; especially when I’m traveling. I like to brush myself up with the goings on of whatever city I happen to be in. It wasn’t until three days ago that anything startling or of particular interest had caught my eye. Since then, I had kept the papers instead of recycling them. They are stacked on this desk near the stuffy reading lamp.
As archaic as this sounds, I want to keep a detailed record of my trip here, and of the…items I read in the police column, which have now grown into full blown articles. Yesterday’s paper featured a brief article about the “recent series of deaths caused by heart failure in Conner and the Angeles National forest near I5.” That was when I went back to the stack of papers that I was going to recycle this morning.
There were eight deaths in total, most of which happened in odd circumstances. I shuddered at the memory of her. Even though my inner skepticism was screaming at me to forget that insane maniac, I couldn’t help connect the deaths to her. I had suffered a mild heart attack not long after her weird, voodoo stance and promise of death!
I am scheduled to depart the LA area in two days, but I don’t want to go anywhere near that dreadful stretch of decadency ever again! Perhaps some advice is in order. One of my good friends is staying in this hotel (his room is on the second floor) for a sci-fi convention. I should talk to him about this. I want him to tell me that my wild tales are nothing but irrational fears born out of that wretched experience and coincidentally ill-timed heart attack.
Labels: 500 words, horror, weird fiction, word of the day
posted by Mishi at
4:32 PM
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