My Weird Stories 3 by Paul Audcent - HTML preview

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BLACKOUT.                                                              Copyright 2014 Paul Audcent

A short story about having an argument with your better half, but who said they were better? Nasty perhaps, but it gets worse.

 

It was dark, pitch black. Grayson stopped and felt in his pocket but the torch was not there. It normally resided in his side pocket where he kept his keys, they were there as he jangled them between his fingers but no torch. A car came past at some speed and he stepped back onto the footpath. The headlights allowed him briefly to see where he was going and he spotted a gate belonging to Farmer Jackson it had its broken slat, the third down if he remembered correctly so at least he was in the right direction. He looked around to find any more incoming vehicles, he was on a side road and yes he could see them travelling on the main highway flashing by in the distance, well at least he was close to home and knew that around an unseen bend ahead there was the three cottages, a pub and the Saxon church further on. He quickened his stride to reach the bend where the path stopped where he had to  use the roadway. He came the the edge of the kerb and stepped down cautiously so as not to trip, he swore about loosing his torch. He thought for one moment that Jennie had removed it, they had had a row that morning, a violent one and he had slapped her hard on her face, for her tongue was unnerving him and she was getting hurtful, so he then and there accused her of fancying Tom their next door but one neighbour. So she turned onto their kitchen table and aimed his breakfast plate at his head, instead she changed her mind and threw it directly at his chest, it missed but he picked his coat off the hook and dashed outside to meet his lift to the station.

 

As he came close to Mrs Comptons the first cottage he passed by her high pine hedge and his hand outstretched to find the gate he then felt a blow on the back of his head and he sank to the ground his hand slipping down the wet slats of the gate, he tried to grab the bottom rail but a kick in the stomach rolled him into the road. Unconscious he remained for several hours until he was collected by a fast car swinging around the bend which did not stop. Mrs Compton found him next morning across the lane and rang the police.

 

 

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