One paragraph story... June 12- PM edition

With only the light from the corridor across the basement, Archie, Jack, Solomé, and Becka sat in a heap lost with their cruel imaginations pondering what would have caused Peter to utter such an exclamation as, ‘Oh my God.” No one discussed what they pictured until later that week but when they did they found out that both Archie and Becka had thought he found a bathtub full of blood and a dead baby floating in it. It would take year before the rest of the group would be comfortable with their macabre observations. Jack and Solomé, on the other hand, imagined Peter found a door, or window that lead outside, and were the first to get up. Solomé stood and offered her arm to Jack. He found he was able to put a bit of weight on his right foot without wincing. They hobbled towards the light and, soon, too, disappeared around the corner. Becka reached out to Archie and grasped his hand as a kind of security blanket, squeezed it as a way of saying, ‘You’re not alone.’ He squeezed back to say, ‘We all die alone.’ but took comfort in knowing that if he did die he'd be found holding the hand of a girl. They stood, and Becka slipped behind him and was resting her hands on his back using him as a kind of human shield, pushed him in the direction of where the scary little girl once stood. His feet were having trouble finding a reason to move, but in time, got to the corridor which they could now see was floored with rippling, dirty linoleum. Their breath came back to them when they saw Jack, Solomé, and Peter staring in a doorway… but very much alive. With renewed strength Archie and Becka moved to the door espying a tiny room with no windows; A few rotten dolls lay on the floor, some crayon drawings on the wall of houses, and trees, and people, and in the corner was a tiny child’s bed. The bed sheets pulled up over what seemed to be the shape of a body. But that body did not appear to be breathing.


James C.