Short Story : 'The Book Of Sir Ballfour'

The blazing light was shining in my face and a slight breeze blew through the arched windows. I spotted an open chest in the attic, whilst spring cleaning. The outside rim of the box was covered in dust and cobbled webs; the hinge was rusty, making a creak noise against the ghost-quiet room. Rummaging my hand around the chest there was a scratchy-substance digging against my fingers. As the sun faded from my sight I lifted up the mysterious object. It was an old rustic book; I flipped through the delicate pages, every touch made a crinkling

A sudden emptiness seemed to flow from the sweltering air and into our thoughts. The drive back from New York felt hauntingly isolated. Uncomfortable silence filled the yellow car. The silence was only to be broken by warm air whistling as Daisy’s white dress swooshed around through the gentle breeze.

She walks to the centermost oak tree near Mason Hall, she finally has found the perfect shady spot on an 80-degree day. She passes the boy from her Psychology class and gives him a small smile. She’s taking a journey to a jungle she doesn’t normally observe, a place where many humans and animals inhabit. There isn’t a breeze and the air feels drier than usual. The Diag seems unfriendly today, as she sits down she’s nervous of her surroundings. She plants herself on a somewhat clean patch of grass and pulls out her shiny laptop. She is reading “Werner Herzog’s Conquest of the Useless” for her freshman English class. As she dives her way into the reading she starts to think about where she is, what is going on around her, and the journey that she is on. A bushy red squirrel approaches her, she’s confused why it’s coming so close and quickly gets up to escape its presence. “Why in the world is this squirrel so close to me” she thinks to herself. The girl moves from the tree but as she get up she starts to notice specific details she hasn’t before.

The sun broke through the grey and breathed life into the awakening city. The woman’s eyes though opened, were empty and moved accordingly to the flock of doves that soared through the chilled air. She gazed at the beautifully choreographed dance above where delicate wings formed prominent silhouettes against the comforting rays. The ancient apple tree which only last month was a mess of unruly twigs and withered leaves had now flourish into a bounty of lively red apples that heralded the Springtime. The richness of the sanctuary generated distant and painful memories in her head like the scenes of a tragic movie. She could still picture the remorseful look in the man’s eyes during his last breath. Her father, a man of ambitions and responsibilities, was not the father to throw her into the sky and tell her how much he loved

I scratched at my forearms, itching for another fix. The light from my phone illuminated my face as I checked my text messages from my dealer, hoping soon he would be at the meeting place, cause I was cold. The wind whipped at my face as I walked up to the abandoned hotel where I was told to meet. The hotel had been standing alone for almost a hundred years now and was completely deserted other than occasional junkie or homeless person that milled about. People in this town barely even knew it was here anymore, everyone had moved on into a more industrial age and forgot about the history hiding in the shadows. The door creaked loudly as I opened it, the sound echoing through the pitch black halls. I switched on the flashlight on my phone and

Anna Beth Stevens grew up in the south. She was brewed with tradition in the wind and potatoes on the table. She always dreamt of breaking free of her snow globe town. She witnessed a sitcom once based in Beverly Hills. It left her yearning to know what lay in store on a separate coast. However, lighting bug jars and knee scrapes filed her summer. The tormenting of the neighbor boys would not do itself. Anna Beth was fearless and smart. When she was 9, she filled coffee filters with flower and cayenne pepper. She wet the bottom of them just enough to break when hitting the faces of the boys that lived behind her grandmother’s. They had no idea what had just landed in their eyes causing them to cry an uncontrollable cry, but they knew from that

“It is a shame that her father left her...this happened because her mother failed her job as a wife...she is so young...what was her father thinking?”, my relatives whispered as they sipped their tea. My cousin’s face turned pale like the white blanket of snow falling outside the lodge at the camp in Lake Tahoe. Her expression held so many emotions as if it was a canvas of a painting to be gazed upon. I could see that she felt frustrated and tired of these rude remarks, and all I did was just stand there and caressed the back side of her hands, so I could comfort her. Suddenly, it felt like the air had thickened so much that even a hammer could not slash it into tiny bits. My cousin had not yet known why her father left the house yesterday.

Mary sat at the kitchen table staring out the window through the freezing rain at the old, rusty mailbox. It had been two weeks since her husband had left for Europe. The war was raging on and more men were needed, so her husband had joined the war effort. His final words to her were “I’ll see you again, my love.” She had read the paper that morning, and she was petrified.

Jenna was thinking about Aubrey. She hadn’t meant to but she was now. She sat with her back against her pillows, legs tucked in to her chest. Her warm mug burned her hands as she held it between her knees, waiting for it to cool off. A novel and some textbooks lay at her feet but she didn’t feel like reading them. She looked out the window through the rain, tucking a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear. It was pouring and the sound of it tapping against her window comforted Jenna and made her relaxed. She felt the most at ease she had been in weeks. Finally she could stop pushing down everything she was feeling, and start reflecting. She thought of Aubrey and realized that she missed her. She wondered if Aubrey was still upset;

My lungs filled with oxygen as I drew in a deep breath. I gently closed the book in front of me as my eyes slowly refocused on my surroundings. I felt like I had been drowning for hours and could just now come up for air. Except I didn’t want to. The water that had confined me flowed from a completely different world which I had no desire to leave. I could imagine myself as a part of that world’s adventures and playing a role in the story’s unfolding. A connection had formed between me and the characters, as if I had stood with them and their experiences had become my own. In the moments while I read, nothing had the ability to distract me from their struggles and their triumphs. In chunks their world consumed my time, my emotion, and my thinking.

Everything was silent as Margot walked out of the closet. It seemed as if the rain had stopped, but that was only because it had slacked off for a moment. Still going on. She had tears dripping down her face, sobbing, with her head down. Her classmates were upset, but not as much as Margot. She wanted to see the sun so much. Margot tried to make a plan to make the sun come back. She had total confidence in herself that her plan would work. If it didn't she would be as sad as she was now, but for the rest of her life.

The past hour was something strange. I had never seen the city so clearly before — all the lights, reflecting softly on the dampened air the rain had heralded. There was a festive feeling all around us. We continued to walk on the white pavement, the reflection from the wetness illuminating our hopes and fears. Talking about everything, we were heading towards nothing. We walked close enough that our hands sometimes brushed against each other, and a small shiver would run down our arms. We did this with the naïveté of first love, never bothering to acknowledge it, other than the occasional shared smile.

Walter walked with purpose towards the coffee shop on Main. He was heading to order the missus her latte. After every hair appointment she wanted a latte with extra cream and Walter had to get it for her. As he walked along he passed a school. It was 2 o’clock and he heard the loud, obnoixous bell ring as he passed. He hurried along before the kids started filing out the door. He was still thinking about it when he reached the door of the coffee shop. He placed his order and sat down, staring out the window towards the school.

There I was sitting, hoping I would come closer to finishing a dreadful class assignment, pushing a cheap pencil that could give my fingers skin peeling blisters in a few more strokes. It was a frigid Saturday night during October, I looked out the window smeared with water due to condensation and noticed the sky was a rich navy, smoked clouds began to settle behind the steep mountains and the wind was giving a gentle cry. Ruddy brown leaves were twisting off their branches and rocked back and forth until I imagined listening to them make a hushed scratch on the asphalt. The night was too beautiful to ignore, so I tossed my pencil over my shoulder and thought I deserved to enjoy my weekend. The homework made me forget I was hungry from all

After about thirty minutes of just listening to the rain fall in the silence of her dark, lonely, apartment she decided she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to do something to get her mind off Hank Voight. She tried watching a movie, doing a puzzle, even playing candy crush on her phone, but her mind always wondered off. Since none of that worked she decided to just go to bed.