Tag: short story

What’s Left Behind ~ March 21, 2021

K L Kent ~ Author

The news of his death was tragic.  Sampson Hindershot had been a legend, not only in our community, but in the world.  He was renowned for his travels and exploits.  So to hear that he had died from a fall down the stairs, of his own home, was a big letdown.  People wanted to talk of his death the way they talked of his life, in grandiose narrative that would hold anyone captive for hours on end.  Instead, he fell down his stairs.  Except, I am here to tell you that his legend lives on, or at least it might if I choose to carry his banner.

It was a Thursday when my colleagues and I at the bank learned of his demise.  We set to work determining the next steps for his assets.  The money had been easy as it was bequeathed to several charities he had listed as beneficiaries on his accounts.  What we were waiting for was someone to claim the rights to his safe deposit box and its contents, but that never happened.  No one remained to take over his processions or his legacy, but he was famous, so certainly an executor of his estate would be named and we would be contacted.  Yet again, it never happened.  As the year passed the stories of his exploits faded and were replaced by those of new, equally as large, living personalities. 

A year passed and then the day arrived.  With no one to claim his assets we were beholden to clear them and send them to the state.  As bank personnel we were charged with having the box drilled and cataloging its contents.  I’d be lying if I said anything other than this moment filled us with excitement.  It was here that he had left us some mystery, a tantalizing secret that promised intrigue and a possible final story.

With baited breath we watched.  The maintenance man took out his tools, an assortment of hammers to knock out the lock, and began his work with gentle determination.  With a few swift hits the locking mechanism broke and from its vault we pulled out a black box.  It measured 3”x5”x22”, so we knew it couldn’t hold much.  The first items were expected.  A passport, some coins, a few photos of exotic locations.  But each item that came out after became more and more mundane, not worth protecting from the world.  Finally, the last item was recorded and the clear plastic bag was sealed.  A quiet sigh was the only communication needed to share our joint disappointment.  My partner stood and carried the bag from the vault leaving me to return the now empty box to its cubby.  As I lifted it, a rattling noise stopped me.  What did we miss?

I laid it back down and lifted the lid.  Nothing was obvious so I reached into the dark depths at the back.  At first I didn’t feel anything, maybe I had imagined it, but as I pulled back my hand my fingers brushed against a hard object.  I gripped it and gently pulled it out into the light.  It was a large cylindrical object.  At least a foot in length with a base diameter of about 2” that tapered till it ended in a sharp point.  It shimmered as the light hit it, like it was infused with glitter so fine it could have been star dust.

I was mesmerized, how could we have missed something so big?  I walked out carrying it across my open palms like a sacred object.  My first thought was that my colleagues might fear I carried a weapon, but no one noticed.  I walked directly up to the nearest teller and mentioned we needed to add one more item to the bag that was left behind the line.  She looked at me quizzically and inquired into what I had.  All I could say was “look” and she did.  She looked at my hands and then back at me with a suspicious glance.  “Is this a joke?”  I was taken aback.  “No, why would you ask that?”  “Because your hands are empty.”  I looked down, they most certainly were not empty.  It was an awkward moment, but I did the only thing I could at that moment and returned to my desk.  I didn’t hide the object, and no one questioned it.  So when it came to leave, I took it with me.

At home it sat on my coffee table.  In the evenings I would stare at it, or hold it trying to determine what it was, and during the day I waited for someone to question me about it.  I should have never left with it, and it was probably caught on camera, but no one ever did.  The week wore on and my excited grew.  This was it, this was the mystery that Sampson Hindershot had left behind, but I didn’t know what to do with it.  With Friday wrapping as a work day, I became more and more eager to do research.  I needed to know what this object was and what I should do with it.  Once the front doors locked and I secured my work station I practically ran for the exit and raced home.

When I arrived I was greeted with a package on my porch.  I hadn’t ordered anything, but it was addressed to me.  I carried it inside and placed in on the table next to mystery object and opened the box.  Inside was another box, but this one was of polished wood and ornate iron hinges.  A small engraved plaque was on it near the latch.  I looked closely at the words which read, Black Forest, Germany ~ Monoceros.  I didn’t understand the last word but I opened the box.  Inside was velvet and the clear indentation of where a cylindrical object would lay.  With confidence I picked up my stolen object and placed it in the box.  It fit perfectly.  How did someone know to send this to me?  I searched the box for a note, pulling handful after handful of packing peanuts out.  At the very bottom another small cardboard box sat.  I opened it and found a letter and a journal.

Dear Maureen,

 It is now up to you to right my wrongs.  You must return what should never have been taken.  My journal will be your guide.

 ~ Sampson Hindershot.

I spent the entire weekend reading and re-reading that letter.  How did he know it was me?  Now it’s Monday morning.  I’ve called into work and have sat here for hours reading through the journal.  I have a decision to make.  Do I take up his banner and leave my life behind to return this object, or do I hide it away and continue to be the responsible person I have always been?  What would you do?

Carried Away ~ March 7, 2021

K L Kent ~ Author

He laid there, sprawled out on the sidewalk, watching the passing crowd look past him.  He’d given up on trying to be acknowledged.  At this time of day people merely stepped over him without a second glance.  His goals in life were simple.  Pray for someone to fill his tin can with even the smallest of donations or to wait to be arrested.  At least in jail he would be out of this damned drizzle that had been falling for most of the day.  Neither desire seemed to be coming true.  In fact, the last person to walk by had kicked his can away from him.  Of course they didn’t notice and he couldn’t muster the motivation to move and collect it.  The only silver lining he could find was when a passerby got angry at their umbrella, which seemed to have opened to far, and shoved it into the trash bin across from him.

Slowly he dragged himself from the ground and made his way across the sidewalk to the trashcan.  He pulled the umbrella out and opened it.  Sure it was now a bit bent but he could at least keep his head somewhat covered and dry.  The six o’clock crowd was clearing up, most people had made it to their evening destinations.  He decided it was time to make his trek to the park and see if he might find dinner on the way.  The walk was fruitful in his hunt for dinner.  A half-eaten sandwich, a carnival bag of popcorn with a few kernels left.  He even found an unopened bottle of water that someone must have dropped.  Satisfied he turned down a side street and into the fading glow of the setting sun peeking out below the bank of clouds that were beginning to break up.

Most of the day had been clear of any sort of wind, but now a breeze was beginning to pick up adding to the chill of the drizzle.  Soon enough the man would be to the park and be able to confine himself to the makeshift tent he had created.  It might not be the warmest of places but he would be dry and comfortable.  The breeze began to pick up causing the old man to pull his torn trench coat tighter at the collar.  He held it with one hand while maintaining his grip on the umbrella.  A strong gust swept past and grabbed at the umbrella trying to yank it from his grasp but he held tight.  Another came and then another each getting stronger until the last took hold of the umbrella and dragged the man into a run.  He tried to let go for fear of falling but found that he couldn’t.  It was like the muscles in his fingers had cramped up and wouldn’t yield their hold.  He ran along with the wind, trying to release his hold and stop.  His feet pounded the pavement faster and faster until he felt himself being lifted upwards.  Running flat footed shifted to his toes and then he was spinning his legs in the air as the wind, with the aid of the umbrella, began to lift him ever higher.

Even with this miraculous event happening he remained unnoticed by the few people running about with their head buried under their hoods and umbrellas.  He wanted to reach out but was too afraid to make any effort other than to ride the wind that had him.  Climbing, he crested the tops of trees amazed at how the world looked from this vantage point.  Buildings reached for the sky around him and he was entertained by looking into windows, thought be beyond anyone’s vantage point.  Eventually even those started to drift away beneath him as the wind took him to new heights.  Fear tickled him with thoughts of falling, but his grip still held firm.  He had no control at this moment and was at the mercy of whatever force was pulling him upward.  A squawking caught his attention and he looked over his shoulder just in time to see a flock of geese split around him.  They seemed as shocked as him that they should be meeting in this type of locale, but eventually they too disappeared beneath him.

He had quickly become used to this new vantage point of the world and figured he would be floating like this forever, but then a sound started to reach him.  It was a rumble that started low and then continued to build into a steady roar.  He looked all around him and then froze in fear as a jet airliner came into focus and headed directly for him.  He tried as well he could to change his direction.  He willed the umbrella to carry him higher and faster, but alas it was to no avail, he was moving at one speed and one speed only.  As the jet neared he could feel the air around him change.  It became more volatile and untrustworthy.  The plane was almost to where he could touch it but then a turbulent draft caught hold and sent him and the umbrella into an uncontrolled spin upward and outward.  He was being tossed around like a whirly-gig coming down from a great oak tree.  His feet were beneath him and then above him.  He was spinning in circles all while being jerked back and forth, and then the inevitable happened.

It was quick.  The umbrella suddenly folded in the wrong direction and closed up.  The shock of the sight caused the old man to release his grip, something he didn’t think was possible, and before he could think about what had just happened he was falling.  Now his speed was changing, picking up faster and faster.  He knew for sure that he only had moments before he became a splat on the earth below.  His thoughts couldn’t go beyond that.  He couldn’t yell and he could barely keep his eyes open, so he shut them.  He knew it would be over soon, and then it was.

But he wasn’t dead.

Not knowing what to expect he opened only one eye to peek around.  While it wasn’t the ground, he was resting on something.  Slowly he opened the other eye to inspect the soft substance he landed on.  It was white and solid; yet not.  He pushed down in an effort to lift himself off his face.  At first his hand sunk in, about an inch or so, before he was able to find the leverage to move himself into a sitting position.  All around him he could see an expanse of white.  He could feel the solid form supporting his weight but around him it moved like smoke rolling.  As he moved his hands it would cause the smoke to lift and curl.  It was as weird a sensation, sitting in a cloud, as it had been flying with an umbrella.  New sounds began to drift towards him, this time from below.  He could hear the din of what sounded like glasses clinking against each other and the low murmur of conversations being had.   He didn’t trust his ability to peek through.  He felt safe and secure where he sat but he didn’t want to chance that and definitely did not want to continue on his fall towards the ground.  So he sat where he was not moving and keeping his breathing to a slow steady state.

A few feet in front of him the rolling white smoke began to churn and then lifting up from the center of it a black cylinder grew.  It was about 7 inches in diameter and as it continued to rise up wool patches came into view, gracing it at odd angles.  After 2 feet the brim became visible where it rested atop a head.  Once the shoulders crested the rolling smoke the body stopped and turned.  He was a red headed gentleman with a double handlebar mustache.  The top handlebar was small and curled just under his reading glasses that slipped low on a long pointed nose.  The second, lower handlebar, was large and curled downward to cover a good portion of the man’s cheeks.  He smiled at the old man before greeting him in a musically tenor voice.  “Hellooooo, you must be Chester.  You have been expected.”  Chester lifted a hand to his chest, questioning the greeting.  He began to stammer.  “Exp’ expected?  Where am I?”  The man chuckled.  “You have arrived at the gentleman’s breakfast, an evetn that never ends and is forever enjoyable.  Please come join us below.”  Chester looked with suspicion at the man.  “Gentleman’s breakfast, do you mean it is only men here?”  The other’s eyes twinkled as his smile practically reached around his face.  “The ladies’ tea is just off in the distance, we do gather quite often to meet and mingle, but here it is just us gents enjoying each other’s company.  My name is Magnus Hawthorn and I will be your most glorious host, please let me welcome you to our gathering below.”  Those were his last words before Magnus once again began to sink through the rolling smoke.  As the top of his hat sunk below, Chester began to sink as well.  At first the sensation startled him and he tried to keep his head above the rolling whiteness, for fear of suffocating within it, but he was quickly through. The room he entered, for that is all he could call it, was filled with men of various ages.  They were lounging about in chairs of various design.  Some sat at tables, some stood in groups, some seemed to be lost in their own minds.  They all looked happy as they shared drinks and food.  No one was concerned about the floor and walls that moved around them in a continuous roll of white smoke.  Magnus took Chester by the arm and moved him further into the space.  He was introduced to a variety of people, who greeted him and shook his hand, before he was offered a seat at a table.  “Chester, I’d like to introduce you to Alexander and Thomas.  Great thinkers of science and engineering.  I think you will have wonderful conversations.  If you have need of anything, please feel free to ask and I shall provide.  Gentleman.”  Magnus nodded to each of them and left to wander off into the crowd.  Chester turned to his new companions and relaxed.  Today had ended in the most perfect way and he was content to enjoy this never ending event.

Beneath ~ February 21st, 2021

K L Kent ~ Author

It was one of those nights.  A dark damp night when anyone, even those who love to spend time alone, would be in need of company.  Maybe not the full social interaction that two people might have, but at least the presence to enjoy the sounds of conversations being had around them.  That was how it was this night for one particular old man.  He had spent so many years by himself that he liked to venture into the local bar and listen to the clamor of people enjoying the company of each other.  He would find a spot out of the way at the bar and pull certain objects from his wallet to reminisce about times when he might have been there enjoying the company of a partner.  He lovingly laid out a picture of a young couple sitting in a row boat on the lake.  The man in the photo, under close inspection, could be seen to resemble the now older gentleman fondly looking at the woman sitting across from his younger self.  The next object he so tenderly laid before himself was a ring.  It was obviously too small and delicate to fit his finger, but he liked to admire it and think about what might have been.  This outing had become a bit of a regular event for him.  Any night after a good rainstorm he would venture to this particular spot and enjoy his memories among the crowd enjoying their lives in the now.

Most nights he remained unnoticed, sitting in his dark corner where he could observe while not being observed.  Tonight was different.  New faces were among the crowd.  Some looked nice enough but then there were others with a harder edge to them.  Based on how they were greeted you could tell these louder characters had become something of a regular among the people crowded into the establishment.  The old man shrunk further into the shadows where he sat but it was too late, the unobserved observer had been seen.  Two of the brutes, for that is how he thought of them, sidled up to the bar on either side.  One would hope they were there only to get a refill, but they had other intentions in mind.  Over the last month or so their gang had been building a reputation and no one was to be left out of learning who they were.

While inside they were cordial enough, enquiring about the man’s evening, and even admiring the ring and the lady in the photo.  While always polite, there was enough of an undertone to let the old man know that he had had his fill of social interactions.  He paid his tab, and wished the gentleman a pleasant evening before making his exit.  Outside he breathed in the deep scent of the rain soaked earth before turning towards the lake at the outskirts of town.  He always finished these evenings at the lake, the resting place of his memories and his joy.

The thing about small towns is that they are quiet.  So on an evening like this you can tell when you are not walking alone.  Whether welcome or not the old man now had company.  The two men from the bar had caught up and were once again making small talk.  Not really to him, but around him, as though he was a part of the conversation or at least the subject of it.  The old man tried to walk quicker, but they were younger with more agility, so his way was quickly blocked by one man who placed his fingertips against the old man’s chest while the other took a position at his rear.  The man was large, with a t-shirt missing the sleeves and a leather vest.  His dark, hard, eyes rested in a face that was half covered in a beard so long it was braided down his chest.  He removed his hand from the old man’s chest and ran it down the length of that beard as though it helped him think.

“Old man, we didn’t get a chance to finish introducing ourselves back there.”  “Oh? I am so sorry about that but it is time for me to be getting home.”  He tried to move past but the man chuckled and once again stopped him by using his fingertips to create pressure against the old man’s chest.  “You don’t understand.  Everyone needs to know who we are and what is expected when you meet us.”  The man behind chuckled under his breath.  “You see, we are trying to build a business here and everyone is our customer.  We just need a small token of your understanding and then we’ll let you go on your way.”  The old man looked up into the other’s eyes trying to bolster his nerve and present an air of resistance.  “I have nothing for you, maybe tomorrow I can provide you with the token you need.”  Another chuckle.  “Good sir, you have already shown us what we desire.  So you can either give it willingly, and we part as friends, or we take it and look forward to trying this meeting again another day.”  The old man grunted as old men are want to do in times of frustration.  He again tried to push past but now was grabbed around the arms by the man behind.  “I am sorry it has come to this,” and the old man was relieved of his wallet.

It didn’t take much force to knock him to the ground and he watched in disgust as the two men standing above him tore through his wallet.  They took what cash he had and then held up to the light his most prized possession.  The ring looked even smaller pinched between the rough fingers of the brute.  “Looks to be a nice diamond here. “Thank you sir for your token, we appreciate your cooperation.”  Before throwing his wallet back to the ground the second man took from it the picture of the young couple.  As though trying to make a point of abject bullying he ripped it into pieces before sprinkling it like confetti on the ground.   Now the men laughed as they turned and walked away toward the lake.  In tears the old man picked up the pieces of his memories and carefully place them back in his wallet.  He would reassemble it the best he could when he got home, but for now he still had a date with his past.

The lake was usually quiet this time of night, the water finally at rest after the onslaught of what came with the storm, but this night was different.  Tonight the silence was disturbed by the sounds of drunk fools celebrating their good fortune of the treasure they stole from a small old man.  They sat in a row boat in the middle of the lake enjoying a bottle of whiskey they had bought with the cash and talked about how they might spend the money they would get from pawning the ring.  Now we all know the affect that alcohol can have and for these two it led to the inevitable.  A fight broke out over who would carry the ring and who would take care of pawning it.  A few blows were delivered and then the worst thing that could happen did.  The bottle of whiskey was lost over the side of the boat.  Both men quickly tried to grab for it but could only watch as it disappeared below the surface into the darkness of the water.

 They tried to see into the black depths.  Maybe if they could just catch sight of the bottle they might yet rescue it.  As they strained their eyes both began to experience the sensation of seeing dancing lights.  They sat back, blinking and rubbing their eyes in hopes of being able to focus.  A glance back over the edge found that the lights had intensified and were nearing the surface.  In the middle a shadow took form and they watched in fear and curiosity as it got closer before breaking the surface.  Breaking the surface appeared a beautiful young woman.  Her brown eyes were deep and inviting and below the surface the roundness of her bosom ignited feelings of excitement in both men.  She swam closer to the boat and again the men began fighting to be the first to encounter her.  One good punch from the bearded brute sent the other to the bottom of the boat.  With a cocky grin he turned back and leaned out, straight into her outstretched arms.  At first it was a gentle embrace, but then greed and heat took over and the man tried to pull her into the boat.  She was quick to slip from his grasp, back into the water and then popping up on the other side.  She reached out for the other man and he was quick to enter her embrace.  Again the kiss was at first gentle.  The man looked back at his companion and winked before turning back to continue the dalliance.

He smiled at the girl and again puller her close.  As his eyes shut he was unaware as her mouth changed and where once there were supple lips to embrace with his own there was now what appeared to be a jawless opening with circular rows of teeth.  It was an image out of nightmares as the bearded man watched her suction like mouth close over his friends face.  The man struggled for freedom, kicking the bottom of the boat and hitting out at the figure who had him.  It took only moments before his form fell still and was then dragged over the side of the boat and into the depths of the water.  The bearded man was shook and terrified.  He quickly moved to the center of the boat, scared to even put the oars in the water until he knew he could do so safely.  There was a knock on the side of the boat causing him to jump and then a hand grabbed the side.  He fell backwards against the gunwale across from the appearance.  He shivered and hugged himself as the hand slid back out of sight.  Slowly he began to move back to the middle of the boat but never made it.  A quick splash was his only warning before arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him over to disappear beneath the dark water.

Ripples radiated out violently from the boat as it rocked back and forth after the assault.  Eventually the boat and water settled back to a still and silent state.  The water was pristine in the calm air and the only sounds that could be heard were the gentle slaps of oars on the water.  Under the dim glow of the moon peeking through the cloud covered sky another boat glided up to the first.  The old man looked about slowly and then inspected the bottom of the boat in hopes he might find his missing treasure.  A sudden knock on the side brought his attention to the most beautiful face staring up at him with big brown eyes.  He reached out and gently caressed her cheek.  She leaned into his hand before bringing her own from the water to reach out.  He watched as she opened her palm to him and revealed the diamond ring.  It was so beautiful against her skin.  He didn’t want to take it from her but this was how he kept her close.  As he picked up the ring he leaned in to kiss the inside of her wrist.  She smiled and then lifted herself higher over the edge to plant a gentle kiss on his mouth before diving back beneath the water.  Quietly he returned to land.  He still had years of his life yet to live before he could join her, so for now he would treasure these precious and rare moments.  He tucked the ring back into his wallet next to the picture that he would repair and left the lake for home.

Tiny Dancer ~ February 7th, 2021

K L Kent ~ Author

She felt a surge of excitement as she heard the taxi door shut outside.  Suzie’s grandma had arrived to celebrate her tenth birthday.  She always had a special surprise planned and Suzie couldn’t wait.  She jumped up from the floor, leaving her crayons and coloring books strewn about, and raced down the stairs straight into the arms of the old woman who had just come through the door.  “Oh, you’re getting so big.  You’re bound to knock an old woman off her feet.”  They both laughed as Suzie was crushed into a hug against her grandmother’s chest.  “Suzie,” her mother called as she walked in from the kitchen.  “Suzie, let Grandma Pat at least get all the way inside.  Hello mother.”  The two women embraced.  “Dinner is almost ready, if you would both like to wash up we’ll be ready to eat momentarily.”

Grandma Pat turned to Suzie.  “Well Button, would you like to help me with my stuff?  We might just find something special inside.”  Suzie couldn’t hide her excitement.  She grabbed the suitcase handle with one hand and her grandmother with the other to lead them both down the hall to the guestroom.  Unpacking was quick.  A few outfits, some toiletries, and a beautifully wrapped box at the bottom.  Now, Suzie was sure her grandmother was a magical creature of some sort.  Whether a witch or fairy godmother, there was something special about the woman.  Suzie knew, just knew, that this gift would confirm her belief.  Suzie fingered the wrapping, wanting to open it right here, but she was interrupted by her mother’s voice coming down the hall.  “Super’s ready, come and get it.”  Hugging the gift Suzie followed her grandmother into the dining room.

Their meal consisted of all Suzie’s favorite foods; chicken nuggets, egg rolls, jello, pudding, tater tots, and of course cake.  Normally, on a day like today, they would let Suzie dominate the conversation, but Grandma Pat had just returned from overseas and all Suzie wanted to hear about was her adventures.  Grandma Pat spent her life working as an archaeologist and even after retiring she continued to explore distant places looking for wonder and excitement.  To Suzie, this made her grandma greater than Indiana Jones, Lara Croft, and Merlin combined.  During the meal they all sat enraptured, listening to Grandma Pat tell her stories of her recent exploits.  “I started in Egypt where I had to test my wits against the curse of a mummy deep beneath a pyramid.  Then I explored the catacombs of Transylvania while you know who was out of town.  From there I took a perilous cruise on the Atlantic and barely survived an encounter with the Kraken.  I then finished in Paris, where I performed with a street circus as their fire eating woman.”  “How about a brief display?”  Suzie clapped in anticipation, but a clearing of the throat from her father ended the notion.  “That sounds amazing Grandma Pat, but maybe another time, and outside.  They all laughed at that.  “Well, I think now it’s time for the most important part of our meal.”  Suzie’s mother stood from the table and walked into the kitchen.  When she returned it was with a cake shaped like a dragon.  “Did I ever tell you about the time I battled dragon’s in South America?”  Grandma Pat asked.  Suzie shook her head no, prompting the story to be told while they ate.

Finally, the moment arrived and Suzie tore the paper from her gift.  Inside was an ornate box and when she opened it a small ballerina turned in place to the tinkling sound of music.  “Wow, it’s a jewelry box, thank you.”  Suzie smiled trying to hide her disappointment.  Her Grandmother chuckled and crouched down next to her.  “this is a very special jewelry box.  Tonight, open it by your window and allow her to dance in the spot light provided by the moon.  I promise, it will be magical.”

That night after tidying up her room and preparing for bed Suzie took the jewelry box to the window and opened it in the moonlight.  Just as before the ballerina twirled in a circle.  Suzie sighed, maybe she was getting too old to believe in her grandma’s magic.  She reached out to close the lid just as the remaining clouds broke.  The light pouring in got brighter and the tiny figure in the box began to dance.  She spun into a pirouette and then lifted her leg into an arabesque.  She was up on her toes waving her arms and then down into a plie’.  The routine was beautiful and the tiny figure moved around the box as though she had a full stage.  She ended with a pirouette and another plie’ that flowed into a curtsy.  Suzie was surprised and thrilled.  She applauded with vigor and then stopped when she realized she wasn’t the only one clapping for the performance.  She looked around her room to find all of her dolls were also applauding the tiny dancer.  She looked back in time to see the ballerina retake her pose as clouds once again drifted over the moon. A light rap on the door announced the entrance of Grandma Pat.  “I’ve come to tuck you in.”  Suzie put the jewelry box on her book shelf and climbed into bed and under the covers.  “Grandma?”  “Hmmm?”  “You really are magic aren’t you?”  Grandma Pat chuckled as she pulled the covers up tight.  Leaning down she said “for you Button?  Always,” and then she planted a kiss on the girl’s forehead.  Grandma Pat walked to the door.  She turned back and smiled back at Suzie “sweet dreams Button.”  Then she pulled the door closed behind her.  Suzie rolled over and looked back at the jewelry box on her shelf.  That night she drifted off dreaming about the tiny ballerina, the magic of her grandma, and the adventures she would have herself someday.

Sounds of Morning ~ January 24th, 2021

K L Kent ~ Author

It was an incessant ringing, a clamoring that woke everyone in the village before dawn had even broke.  They stumbled out of their houses, masks tight across their faces, and hands covering their ears.  They tried to speak to each other but, even when yelling directly into another’s ear, their questions could not be heard.  Dogs barked and babies wailed but no one could find the source of the noise to shut it off.  The sun had yet to make its appearance, but the horizon was already showing the early kiss of dawn.

People got angry and began to gather, trying to devise a plan while only speaking in hand gestures.  This proved difficult because their hands were necessary to protect their fragile ears.  Suddenly the ground began to quake.  Everyone feared that this was the moment the sound caused the ground to cave in beneath their feet.  They hunkered down lower, ready to brace themselves, but it never happened.  The ground stayed solid.  Then they looked to the south where a large mountain stood.  They could see the dust starting to kick up and the land starting to move.  Lord help them, they were in for a land slide.   Yet that too did not happen.

The dust rolling down the leeward side of the mountain quickly shifted to rocks and boulders.  Yet instead of creating a massive landslide the mountain seemed to grow taller, and lift upwards reaching for the sky.  The general shape was changing and suddenly a piece, that ran the length of the range, broke free.  It swung forth above the heads of the terrified citizens.  They watched it swing outwards into the distance of the North.  Then suddenly there was silence.  The silence was deafening.  Though really it was just that their ears needed a few moments to recover from the onslaught of sound they had just suffered.  The arm, for that is what it was, then retracted through the sky and came to rest at the side of a massive figure who now sat where the mountain had stood.

He yawned and stretched, moving side to side as though trying to get the kinks out of his back.  Then he looked around and his gaze came to rest on the tiny creatures who looked up at him in complete shock and awe.  He smiled and spoke in a deep, booming voice, that rattled like thunder moving across the sky.  “Good morning! May I…” he was interrupted as he watched the small creatures hunker down covering their ears.  It dawned on him that their fragile forms couldn’t take him at full volume so he leaned down and whispered.  “Good morning!  May I ask what year it is?”

One small form moved forward from the crowed.  The giant could tell that the thing was trying to say something but he couldn’t hear it.  “I’m sorry, but you are too small, your words do not reach me.”  Another creature came jogging up to the first.  He handed off a small object and suddenly a tiny voice rose upwards and the giant could hear.  “It is 2021.”  He nodded, as though impressed with himself.  “My, then I have taken a good nap.  Is there anything special happening?  Anything I should be excited for in 2021?”  He watched as the small people spoke among themselves before the main person once again spoke through the device.  “This past year there was a great pandemic that affected the whole world.  We now have a vaccine but we are still in the process of getting it delivered to everyone.”

The giant frowned.  “That doesn’t sound like too much fun.  I think I will snooze for a couple hundred more years.  Thank you for your time.”  With that the giant reached out once more into the distance.  When he pulled his arm back he again settled into a sleeping position.  He blinked a few times and smiled at the villagers before closing his eyes for good.  His breathing kicked up a gentle wind that rolled across the land and through the village.  As the sun began to crest the horizon the giants form slowly blurred.  Where once the people saw the massive body of a man they once again saw the rock face of the mountains they had known all their lives.  The sun continued to rise and as the rays kissed the lips and cheeks and nose of the giant, those features also blended back into the form of a mountain and the wind died down. The people stood around outside for quite some time following the short spectacle of the morning.  Many were already beginning to forget those few moments of magic, but the children who saw it would remember it much longer.  They would build stories about the mountain and the giant who slept there and those stories would be passed down for generations to come.  Celebrations would be created to honor the sleeping man who would one day rise again to greet those lucky enough to hear the call of his alarm and bid him good morning.