Three Quiet Horror Tales of Love Lost
And the emptiness that follows
Running Joke
When we bought the old place with plans on fixing it up, the realtor told us that the old homestead was haunted. We tried not to laugh as she gripped her clipboard, eyes darting around the home.
Getting the old girl in liveable shape became a labor of love. With each paint stroke and electrical upgrade, the home began to shine. It was then that my wife took to scaring me, draped in a white sheet, moaning like the undead.
I miss her so but take solace in seeing her on the stairs in her sheet while the walls weep.
Monuments
The makers put us here to do good; to take care of the world they had so carefully crafted for us. They built monuments as reminders of their generosity, but we defaced them.
The large marble heads placed in prominent places around the world looked to us like silent judgment, so we broke them, defaced them, and spit in the face of Mother.
They did not take kindly to the affront, flooding our world with the snap of a finger. Those of us who survived now care for the monuments, hoping to be blessed with a new Garden of Eden.
Hidey Hole
We never really found out what the little closet under the stairs was originally used for. It felt like a design flaw, but our Nate saw it as the perfect place to hide out with Teddy, his best buddy.
We made it cozy for him, understanding that he needed a place of his own to hide away with his thoughts while the cancer treatments took a toll.
The space lies empty again, although not quite. Sometimes, when we pass by the door is open and we see Teddy. In a certain light, it looks like his marbled eyes are wet.