Thursday, 28 March 2013
Wednesday, 27 March 2013
Friday, 22 March 2013
Sunday, 17 March 2013
Mary has also written a book of short stories:
Take Off Your Mask
It is in my nature to analyze everything (being a Scorpio has something to do with it I am sure). I always look for what cannot be clearly seen, for what I sense is hidden somewhere. People who pretend to be something they are not fascinate me. These are people who choose to hide their real feelings and thoughts from the rest of the world, (sometimes even from themselves) and go through life playing a role. After a long while, that role becomes their reality, that they cannot live without.
Saturday, 16 March 2013
Sunday, 10 March 2013
Tuesday, 5 March 2013
Holding his arm protectively around Anne. They were huddled together in the corner of the now dark bedroom. It was a far cry from earlier. Then there was nothing protective about them being together. They had been on the bed and having sex when the lights went out. The lights did not stop them but the sound of breaking glass did.
He could hardly hear Anne's shallow breathing. The only other sound was of the rain hitting the roof above them. They were both trying to keep as quiet as possible. He knew that it would not be enough. How could they have been so careless to be caught? how had they been followed? pointless questions really. The only one that mattered was how was he going to get them both out of there?. He whispered in Anne's ear that he was going to to take a look.
Anne held on to him tightly but he unhooked her fingers. Standing he pulled on his jeans and immediately felt less vulnerable. Not quite armour but better than being naked. He edged around the bed towards the door. A sound from downstairs causing him to halt. Holding his breath he waited. No further sounds came and he continued to the door. Opening it he peered through the narrow gap but could not see any movement.
He moved out into the hallway. The sound had come from downstairs so he crept towards the end of the landing. Alert but no further noises carried to his ears. He stood there silent for what seemed forever. He was about to take the first step down when he felt the breeze against his back. He shivered in the cold air feeling the goose bumps ripple along his skin. Caused partly by the chill and partly by the realisation that there were no windows open.
He turned and went back to the bedroom and saw Anne still huddled in the corner. He went over to tell her that they needed to move, to get out while they could. Anne grasped his arm tight. Her fingers slipped as she whispered something to him. He could not hear and tried to urge her to get up. Her grip was insistent and she pulled him close. She struggled to say something and finally he paid attention. Blood bubbling up into her mouth causing her to cough and shudder in pain. Anne gasped the word "run" as she gave in to deaths embrace.
Standing, he turned and ran to the door flinging it open rushed into the hallway. He bounded down the stairs and reaching the front door tried to pull it open. Although he had not done it, the door was locked. He raced through the house to the kitchen. It was no good the back door was also locked tight. His breathing coming in ragged gasps he pulled a knife from the block on the counter.
Soft laughter from behind made him whirl around. He felt a fool brandishing the knife in front of him. In the murky light he could see nothing. Edging backwards until he was against the wall. From the other side of the room soft laughter mocked him. He ran through to the living room pulling the door shut behind him. Soft laughter from the other side of the room now. This was impossible how could he move so fast?. The stairs were blocked off now and he had one choice left to him.
Running flat out he threw himself at the window. Glass shattering with a loud crash drowning out the drumming of the rain. Lying outside on the porch floor covered in glass he groaned as the pain washed over him. Pushing himself to his feet he ignored the stab of the glass cutting into him. He staggered out into the rain, limping as he made his way out onto the lawn.
He found himself on his knees. He tried to stand. Realising instead his face was resting against the cool grass.
A pressure on his back as his head is pulled up. The last thing he hears is that soft laughter in his ear as the blade slides across his throat.