These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. I try to do them in 101 words but sometime not.  .  M’s prompt was ‘Cheeky and Sneaky’.

The great horned god waded ankle  deep through the contorted mass of tortured souls screaming in agony as his cloven hooves bit into their soft pink flesh and dancing flames nibbled on their tender parts.

 “Bring me a paedophile priest “ he roared scooping a particularly rotund fellow from the writhing pile at his feet and tearing him in half.  He swallowed down the top part before tossing the extremities over his shoulder.

 “Not a big fan of legs” he said licking his lips as a couple of imps dragged a most terrified and rather skinny specimen towards him.

 “As requested your most magnificent darkness” the first said bowing as he delivered the cowering man at the feet of the creatures.

 “Young boys eh” he said holding him in his hand and squeezing him slowly.  The man’s eyes bulged and he tried to speak.

 “I am a man of God” he said defiantly.  This was most certainly not the wisest of decisions he had made. 

 “Really?” Said the creature holding him up before his face, eyes black and a mouth red as blood with sharp white teeth glistening.  He roared with laughter.  “I would not doubt it one bit.”

 The two smaller creatures were beckoned over with a long talloned finger as a loud horn signalled above the cacophony of howls and wails. 

“I was thinking some buggery, perhaps with a poker and then how about a nice warm eel bath?  What do you think?”

The creatures exchanged glances. 

 The horned god held out his hand offering the priest to them.  “Is there a problem?” he asked teeth grinding.  “Do you not wish to do my bidding and inflict a delicious and unimaginable revenge on this vile creature? “

 The smaller of the two coughed nervously and elbowed his partner.  “Tell him cheeky, go on.”

 Cheeky cowered and took a deep breath.

 “It’s just that…” He paused.

 Sneaky elbowed him again.  “Just do it” he whispered.

 “Come on, out with it” roared the beast, eyes bulging and tightening his grip on the priest so much so that it emptied it’s bowels quite involuntarily.

 “It’s just that, well, you see Great and Mighty One, the hallowed horn of compliance has blown and union guidelines prevent us from out of contractual hours torture you see.” He exhaled and covered his head expecting a smiting at the very least.

 “Did it?  Are you sure” Said the beast quizzically. 

 “Yes sire” said Sneaky now feeling somewhat emboldened.

 “And you have somewhere to be?”

 “Yes sir?”

 The creature looked a little sad as he placed the priest back amongst the writing mass of agony being slowly roasted at his feet.

 “I just thought maybe you might, you know, want to just finish him off.  Might be fun.”

 The imps exchanged a glance and shuffled uncomfortably.

 “It’s just that it’s a union thing you know.  Not really our call.” Said Cheeky.  “Rules and all that.  We’d love to stay honest we would but…”

 “I see, sure, I suppose yeah no that’s cool really” The god answered.  He paused for a moment.  “Tomorrow maybe?  You doing anything then?”

 Sneaky looked away scratching his head.

 “We er…well its kind of our day off you see.  Mandatory working week rest break.”

 “Oh right yeah cool no problem I get it.”

 “We would have loved to though you know.  What about Sunday?  Were free Sunday right Sneaky?”

 Sneaky shook his head.  “Mephisto” he said coughing into his hand.

 Cheeky stared at his feet. “We kind of have this thing you see.  Its one of the lads deathday.  His big 666.”

 “Oh right sure I see.  Yeah no problem.  Sounds cool.  You guys have a blast.  Maybe I’ll see you next week? “

 “Definitely yes lets make it happen, definitely we will be in touch for sure” said Cheeky as they floated upwards leaving the age old creature stood alone.

 “Why did you agree that?” snapped Sneaky as they flew out of earshot.  “You know we’ve agreed to spend some time with Trump.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. I try to do them in 101 words but sometime not.  .  M’s prompt was ‘Early Morning Mishaps’.

Jay stood ashen faced, his heart pounding in his chest, filled with a deep sense of foreboding.

 “What have you done?” Emm asked shaking her head.  “Jay, dad’s going to be furious.  I mean seriously, he worked really hard on that for you.  He’s going to kill you.”

 “Don’t you think I know that” Jay snapped.  “I was just messing about I didn’t think that would happen obviously.” 

 “When are you going to tell him?”

 “Will you tell him for me?  You know what he’s like.  He will take it better if it comes from you.”

 “What?” Emm asked.  “Jay, you need to tell him and you need to do it soon.  You only have a week left before you need to hand in your school project and there’s no way he can remake all those dinosaurs in seven days.  You’ll need to work on something else…”

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. I try to do them in 101 words but sometime not.  .  M’s prompt was ‘Saucy Suspicions’.

When Ernie came home early he had to park on the street because of the black delivery van hunched on his driveway. 

 “That’s funny” he said to himself as he pushed against the already slightly ajar front door.  “I wasn’t expecting a delivery.”

 He stepped into the house and placed his keys in the bowl on the small side table in the entrance.  He paused realising his wife’s car keys were in there too.  Her car must be in the garage which was odd at this time of day as she would usually be at the tennis club.

 “Helen are you home?” he called out as he noticed the blouse she had been wearing this morning thrown over the arm of the plush leather sofa.  “Well it has been hot today” he said to himself.

 As he walked through the house he noticed more clothes strewn across the floor.  He didn’t recognise the jeans, they looked somewhat larger than his but he must just be mistaken. 

 He picked it up as he went and walked through to the kitchen where he placed it in the washing machine.  Helen must have dropped it on the way to doing laundry he thought.

 Heading back into the hall he stood at the foot of the stairs.  More clothes.  She was such a scruffy pup.  One of the many reasons he loved her so.  “You up there honey?” He called out picking up her bra and panties.  They were the good ones…the ones he bought her for valentines day that she hadn’t worn for him yet. 

It had been hot out she must have been desperate for a shower after tennis perhaps.  He wasn’t sure that those panties were best suited for such physical activities though.

 As he rounded the top of the stairs and stepped onto the landing.  “Babe?” He called out.   There were noises coming from the bedroom. It sounded like she was watching porn.  His heart raced.  He had been wanting to try something like that for some time but she always said that it was immoral and that it would make baby Jesus cry if they did.  Maybe things were going to take a turn for the better in the bedroom.

 Hurriedly he shuffled down the hall unbuttoning his trousers and letting them fall to the floor.  Frantically unbuttoning his shirt he reached the bedroom door.  It was slightly ajar and he could just catch a glimpse of her through the doorway. 

 It was at this moment that his heart sank and he suspected that perhaps all was not as it might seem.  The fact that a strapping great tattooed fellow was currently hanging out of the back of his wife didn’t help much either…

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. I try to do them in 101 words but sometime not.  .  M’s prompt was ‘September Sunrise’.

Stan stared out across the water, dark and cold, his fishing pole nestled between his hands as he waited for sunrise.  It was the best time of day to be outside he thought – the air was still and calm, as if nature herself held her breath at the imminent touch of her golden hued lover.

 He tapped his watch thinking it must have stopped surely and reaching into his pocket he pulled out his phone and double checked the time.  No.  It was right.

 In the distance a shrill siren broke the silence, and somewhere high up on the ridge above him he heard a wolf howl into the darkness, and then another and another, their cacophony echoing down the valley.

 He placed the pole at his feet looking out into the darkness, stars still pinpricks in the night sky, and watched as the surface of the lake first rippled and then burst into a silver writhing froth as fish thrashed and gulped the still cold dawn air.  And he waited.

 At his feet insects of all descriptions scuttled frantically over his boots and plump worms twisted and spiralled their way to the surface reaching for the sky in a desperate dance.  And still he waited for the sunrise.

 Reaching again for his phone, the glow of the scream cutting through the darkness, he was forced to scuttle for cover as a murder of crows swooped across the lake and then spiralled and screeching, crashed into a the trees on the hill behind him. 

 Pulse racing he stabbed at the numbers on the phone, but without a signal the incessant beep faded into the darkness.  He felt a cold deep within, icy fingers wrapping around him as the world about him writhed and splashed and crashed and howled.    He felt loss, desperation and so terribly alone as he looked to the horizon waiting for the golden embers.

 And still he waited…

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. I try to do them in 101 words.  M’s prompt was ‘A Touch of Perfect’.

Every day Cal would wake and think that today would be his last.  Today, he was right.

With his engines offline he tumbled through space at 30000 miles an hour towards his inevitable destination.  He stabbed at the lifeless console hoping to gain control of the ship but it remained unresponsive save for the blink of the life support system.

Peering out of the starboard portal the moon swung slowly and ominously into sight, and just beyond her horizon he saw the Earth he’d left behind and would now never return to.

He then smiled and sat back in his chair. waiting…

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more.  .   M’s prompt  was ‘ICY MORN’

 It was cold the day it all ended.  Unseasonably so according to the weathermen.  The temperature had dropped overnight and a heavy frost made the grass crunch beneath Martin’s slippers as he shuffled out onto the common in front of the flat.

 As neighbours gathered around him he watched open mouthed as the sky was set aflame in a firestorm of crimson, yellow and orange.

 Darryl from upstairs said he’d heard there was a meteor heading for earth that the government had been covering up for months.  Others simply wept.  Mrs Melling from number 2 said it was divine retribution for something or other.  Most likely something to do with buggery.  For a woman who went to church each week she did often seem overly mindful of the subject and would insist it was the root of most of the problems in society.

 He’d stopped listening by the time she got round to insisting that Jesus was no fan of bottom shenanigans because at that point a rather large space ship seemed to be descending through the clouds towards them…

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more.  .   M’s prompt  was ‘Wizards and wormholes

Farzlebarg took off his hat, scratched his head and ran a ponderous hand through his long white beard. 

“Well, well, what the devil is that I wonder?” He said to himself, head tilted to one side.

 “It’s a wormhole” came a very matter-of-fact reply.

 Farzlebarg turned slowly to where his apprentice stood looking rather proud of himself.

 “Have you ever heard of a rhetorical question boy?” The old wizard snapped.

 Farbidoo nodded vigorously “A rhetorical question is a figure of speech in the form of a question that is…”

 “Oh do shush boy, please.  You really must work on your situational context.”  

 The boy lowered his head and quietened his voice “…asked to make a point rather than to elicit an answer.”

 By this point the wizard had however stopped listening and had again turned his attention to the slowly rotating purple mass with the dark spinning centre that had taken up the majority of his already quite small kitchen.

 “Curious indeed” he mused as he tossed a tea cup towards it and watched it disappear with a noise not wholly dissimilar to that of a wellington boot being pulled from the mud.

 “I wonder where it came from” Farbidoo said peering around the old man.

 “Do you really?” Farzlebarg asked.  Whilst the boy was keen as mustard when it came to his studies he lacked a certain curiosity and bravery when it came to real world application.

 “Well yes, there is a worm hole in the kitchen so I would most certainly want to know where it came from.”

 Farzlebarg threw the matching saucer after the cup.  There was little point of a saucer without a cup, and it disappeared with the same noise mud squelching noise.

 “The question is not where it comes from boy, as interesting as that might be.  The question you ought to be asking yourself is this…” He paused momentarily for dramatic effect.  He did so enjoy a little tension in his delivery.  The mark of a fine orator most certainly.

 Farbidoo strained hanging on the old wizard’s every word.

 “The question you ought to ask yourself boy…”

 “Yes?”

 The old man grabbed his arm.

 “The question you should ask yourself, because it is far more interesting and holds the potential for much greater adventure, is where does it lead…”

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more.  That said this one is 101 words.   M’s prompt  was ‘Frosted petals.”

Serena pulled the heavy pelts close around her ears as she stared out across the frozen landscape and towards the feint reminder of their folly.  The pale light trickled across the landscape once bathed so bright and for one final time she watched shadows lengthen and then fade to nothing.

The thermal sources were all dead so this would be their last cycle.  She knew that when they chose to remain their fates were sealed, and when the signals stopped as the fleet passed Mars they were truly alone. 

In the dark they would die with Earth, and it felt right.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more. M’s prompt  was ‘Blue skies and blossoms.”

This has taken days as I have been busy and keep getting interrupted but I cant just delete it.  The idea was there but execution is awful.  The flow just wasn’t there and it is humourless but if I don’t publish it I cannot move on.  Don’t bother really…

Dar folded his arms defiantly and puffed out his chest.  Whilst his intention was to appear intimidating and confident it actually made him look most awkward and the appearance of perhaps suffering from extreme wind and somewhat in need of a quiet room in which to make himself considerably more comfortable.

 “All I am saying” he protested “is that we need to maybe give them one more chance because I am certain that there is more to them than we have so far uncovered.”

 Whilst Zenda was half his size she was twice as smart and they both knew it.  Seldom did he win an argument with her and he already knew he was likely to lose this one too but he didn’t like to go down without a fight.

 She placed a hand on his forearm and flashed him a smile that suggested she would happily toss the creature from the airlock right now and take great pleasure in doing so.

 “Dar, the test results support my position there really isn’t anything to discuss.  They’re finished.”

 “Bit look at everything they’ve achieved, how far they’ve come.”

 She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms mirroring his defiance.

 “In nearly four thousand years they have hardly progressed beyond the savagery of their ancestors please, enlighten me.”

 This is my chance he thought to himself.

 “Have you heard their music?  Seen their art?  I know you have and you must admit that some of it is quite something to behold.”  He reached for a panel below a small display to the side of where they stood.  “Listen to this, ‘Chopin’.  Truly marvellous stuff.”  He closed his eyes as Nocturn in E-flat major flooded the deck.

 Her lips tightened as the chords soared

 “Don’t make me play ‘Don’t worry, be happy’ Dar, you know I will.

 He mumbled a response but she had already stopped listening to him.

 “I do not deny that they are creatively quite something Dar but that is not the only measure of who they are.  Look into their hearts, their history, their deeds and it shows them to be wholly unsuitable for advancement.”

 She motioned to the specimen laid out on the table before them.  A portly fellow with tousled brown hair and red cheeks which suggested a love for hard liquor. 

 “Really” she continued.  “Just look at this one Dar, hardly an indication of a civilisation ready to become part of a greater galactic awareness now is he.”

 “Hello, excuse me I am here you know.  I can hear you” the portly red faced fellow shouted straining at whatever invisible bonds held him to the table.

 Dar and Zenda paid him absolutely no attention at all.

 The music picked up pace as she walked over to where he lay and she prodded him with a long scaly finger.. 

 “Dar, face it, they’re a pretty grubby lot when it comes down to it.”

 “Right, hello” the man shouted again.  Again they ignored him.  “Can you get me a manager, I need to speak to someone in authority if you’re not going to listen to me.”

 Dar sighed and unfolded his arms as Pachelbel’s Canon in D major began to play.

 “I just think we should give them a chance Zen, this one’s pretty rubbish I admit but there are some good ones.” 

 He snarled as the man on the table began to speak again and then went silent.

 “Like their leaders?” She asked, a wry smile upon her face.

 Dar paused for a moment.  “Maybe not them, but some of the others.”

 “Okay so maybe like the religious leaders?”

 He knew he was losing but wasn’t ready to give up.

 “You’re probably right you know” interrupted the red faced man.  “We’re a pretty sorry bunch come to think about it.”

 “Will you shut up” Dar barked “I’m trying to save you from oblivion here and you really aren’t helping.”

 Dar took a deep breath and gave it one last shot. “What about all the other great things they have achieved?  Law, society, scientific advancement. They could make a huge impact if we let them join us.  And god how gorgeous a planet.  Blue skies and blossoms the like of which we seldom see.”

 “War, hunger, genocide and the selfish pursuit of gain Dar.  They aren’t ready for it and they never will be.  They’re flawed.  I give you it’s a beautiful place but we our orders are pretty clear.”

 “She’s right you know” the specimen interrupted.  “As much as I hate to admit it she really is.  Were pretty useless.”

 “Really?” Dar snapped.  “Really?”

 Zenda smiled.  “Just do it Dar, let’s just finish up and head home.  I’ll issue the report and we can move onto the next job.”

 Dar looked over at the table.  The creature attempted to shrug as best as the restraints would allow.

 Dar reached for the console and initiated the destruction sequence.

 “Fine” he said leaving the room.  “But I’m keeping the music collection.”

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more. M’s prompt  was ‘Nature’s Reflection’

Darkness scratched and clawed deep within screaming to be released and demanding revenge.  Someone needed to pay and with fists clenched he lashed out wildly, desperate to set free the rage and pain and inflict it on someone else. 

 Flesh tore and bone splintered as his fists connected, his hands bloodied and knuckles bare and dripping with blood as dark as his heart now felt. 

 “I want you to die” he muttered to himself and tasting the blood from where he had bitten through his lip.   It was warm in his mouth.  It felt good to bleed. 

 He lashed out again, his fists balled and this time when he connected he felt the bones in his hand snap and splinter.  The pain shot through him like fire and it felt good.  It felt right.  Yes, someone did have to pay, and maybe it was him.  It wasn’t right what happened to that young boy, no one should have to endure that.  Someone was to blame, someone needed to be punished.

 The throbbing in his head reached a crescendo and screaming he bent double, closing his eyes and covering his ears to block out the laughter that filled his senses.  Tears rolled down his cheeks and his heart pounded in his chest.

 Rising up he roared a defiant “no” and swung again, this time missing wildly and stumbling forwards.  Instinctively he reached for the edge of the sink to steady himself and there he stood, until his breathing calmed, and slowly he raised his head to look at himself in the cracked and bloodied mirror once more. 

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more. M’s prompt  was ‘Amethyst Tears’

When the first stars went out no one noticed at first.  There are after all nearly ten thousand visible in the night sky.  Or at least there were.  It wasn’t long though before people realised and when it started to be reported, well you can imagine how everything went all to hell.

 Many proclaimed it was the end of days and the sign of the second coming of one fellow or another, and most were pretty clear on the matter that everyone was going to be judged – and most likely pretty harshly, and obviously not them.  Not many of them lasted long though because when all you can do day to day is watch the universe being slowly snuffed it will do pretty terrible things to you.

 Some hardier souls did continue to rejoice in what they believed was a certain future for them and the other believers but that slow creeping fear is a terrible thing, and eventually even the most hardy failed the test of faith and succumbed to the madness.  A mind is a fragile thing it seems and it takes a lot less to break it than you might think.     

 Those of a more pragmatic nature did better than most, simply spending the nights watching the sky go out and the days mindful of whatever time they had left which turned out to not be long at all.

 In those final hours, as the inky black of the darkest night descended, the sky rained amethyst tears and those that remained looked to the skies for a final time in wonder as everything came to an end.  It all happened pretty quickly and wasn’t painful at all and was a sight to behold indeed.  I think it was a fitting end to what hadn’t been a particular successful experiment.

 Maybe next time round I’ll try something else but for now, I think I’m just going to enjoy the peace and quiet.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more. M’s prompt  was ‘Peach Kisses’

The first time she saw him her body reacted and she knew he was the one.  Her father had always told her to ‘choose a date that would make a mate’ and he had all the makings of a fine one at that.   

Physically he was tall, broad shouldered and had the kind of jaw you couldn’t help wanting to caress whilst you whispered in his ear to lose his wife and meet you upstairs.  The sharp dark blue suite hung like he was born for it and as he walked across the room she noticed more than one of the lesser creatures bristle and stand that little bit closer to the pretty little thing on his arm.  

She took out her the peach balm from a small black purse, lingered briefly savouring the sensation as she ran it slowly over her lips, and then put it away as she walked over to the bar where he stood.

 Waiting behind him she breathed deep.  He smelled like leather and musk and her pulse began to race.

 “I’ll take one too” she said smiling at the barman as he ordered whisky sour. 

 He turned around slowly still leaning on the bar.  “So a whiskey lover eh” he said flashing her a broad smile.

 She was unnervingly beautiful and his cheeks flushed as she placed a hand on his arm.  “A lover of many things, my tastes are varied.”

 He turned to face her and extended a hand.  His nails were well manicured an there was the all too familiar indentation on the ring finger of his left hand.

 “Adam, my name’s Adam” he said attempting to give her his best smouldering look.  She loved how they squirmed, no matter how dominant they thought they were they were little more than hormonal sacks of throbbing flesh at times.

 Holding out her his hand she walked closer to him.  “Adam is it?  Well then that must make me Eve.”

 He stood frozen for a moment before slowly releasing her hand.

 “I…er…”

 Placing a finger on his lips she shushed him.  She did so enjoy the dramatic, playing with them and watching them melt at her touch.    

 “Oh come now handsome” she continued standing even closer, her breasts pressed against him.  The place was filling up quickly and there were people all around them.  She raised an eyebrow and giggled.  “I see it’s not only speaking that’s hard is it.”

 Feeling more confident he placed a hand on her waist and leaned in as the bar tender slid the drinks over. “So Eve” he said smiling “have you come to tempt me?”

 He has a sense of humour she thought to herself.  A little corny perhaps but he is trying and normally it was a sign of intelligence.  This was getting better and better by the minute.  She stared into his dark brown eyes and bit her lip and watched his pupils dilate and nostrils flare.  She could almost taste the testosterone coursing through his body, almost feel his urge to taste her.

 His hand slipped to the small of her back. “I think we need to be anywhere but here don’t you think?”   

 “Oh is that so?” She replied.  “You haven’t even finished your drink.”

 He looked her up and down, taking a deep breath as the sight of the red dress clinging to her curves and her wavy raven hair cascading around her shoulders. 

 “This drink?” He replied reaching over for it and knocking it back in one. 

 Oh how they loved to perform for her, once their dander was up and they felt their trousers tighten.  The desperation was intoxicating and it made her want to possess them even more.

 Placing a hand on his chest she could feel his heart racing beneath the hard ripples of his body.  Staring into his eyes she slid her hand slowly downwards and stopped just above his waist.  She needed to get him outside, away from the noise and bustle of this place.  He was definitely the one and it was time.

 “Follow me” she whispered into his ear as she tugged on his belt and snaked her fingertips inside.

 He nodded, completely in her grip.  They were just so obedient she thought to herself, little more than compliant horny little pups.  Holding his hand she ld him from the room, she knew he was staring at her at her backside as walked ahead of him, she was now so in tune with his desires she was certain that she could hear every urge and thought filling him.

 She headed out through the heavy front doors and out into the night.  The streets were still busy and neon flooded the darkness as rain began to fall.  “Down here” she urged and dragged him down an alley that ran behind the building and into a recessed doorway at the end, just out of sight of passers by. 

   She pushed him against the door as he tried to kiss her, and he looked shocked at how strong she was.  Smiling she wrapped her slender fingers around his throat.  He wasn’t the first to underestimate her and he wouldn’t be the last.  She reached between his legs with her free hand. 

 “That all you got?” she said smiling.  He grinned and tried to kiss her again and once more she shoved him against the wall.    

 “I’m going to F…”

 She squeezed his throat, red manicured nails digging into his flesh.  His heart was racing and every fibre of his being craved her.  His mind swam with thoughts of pushing her up against the wall and lifting her skirt.   She giggled as she stared into his eyes.  Did he really think he could satisfy her?  He wouldn’t last a minute.

 “It’s time” she said, her face now just an inch from his. 

 Again he nodded and she squeezed him through his trousers. 

 He was ready and so was she, his body was filled with the testosterone her eggs needed to incubate.  Her tongue flashed from between her peach scented lips, into his mouth and down his throat…

 He would make a good mate indeed.   

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more. M’s prompt  was ‘One Lonely Lantern’

Robbie loved the hours just before sunrise the most, when the world is still and calm and the sun just the feintest of glows on the horizon.  It was a great time to be alone with your thoughts and to think about the day ahead, and it was also the best time to catch fish.

 As he looked out across the dark waters the line gave the briefest of tremors and he held his breath and leaned forward for the rod.  There was the buzz of a mosquito and a far off siren and though he waited no bite came.  It had been strangely quiet all night though and he was just about ready to head home.

 Turning from the water he lifted his kerosene lantern to look around for his Dad.  The lamp shot shadows across the narrow path that lead to their spot, the tall spruce trees towering above them and the light dancing on the dew that covered much of the thick undergrowth.

 “Hey Dad you there?” He shouted, his voice echoing through the darkness and across the pond.  No response came. 

 He stood to his feet and shouted again.  “Dad, come on let’s go.”  When he did not answer again he began to worry.  Since mom had disappeared on them when he was eight he always seemed so far away.  Over the years he had become more and more insulated and he seldom left the house since once Robbie had left for college.  Whilst he did what he could he always felt guilty that he couldn’t spend more time with the old man. 

 “Oh come on” Robbie mumbled to himself putting down the lamp and leaning forward to pick up the rod and pack it away but as he placed his hand on the grip the line raced away beneath the water.

 “Shit” he exclaimed lifting it up, wedging in in at his hip and grabbing hold of the reel.  Whatever this was it was big.

 “Hey dad, come on I could do with a hand” he shouted into the darkness, but no answer came back. 

 Robbie pulled back on the rod and in a quick forward and back motion took up the slack and began to reel in whatever had taken the bait.  

“Dad I got one” he shouted again.  There was a rustle in the undergrowth and he turned around briefly but seeing nothing again faced the water and continued to fight to land his prey.

 He got to his feet and took a step closer to the waters edge, the cold dark waters lapping at the toes of his waders.  Whatever it was wasn’t in the mood to give up that was for sure.

 He turned around again hearing a snap of twigs somewhere in the darkness behind him.  “Dad, seriously come on I could do with a hand.  Grab the keep net will you I almost have it.”

 There was no response and he took another step into the water.  It was close now, he could feel it fighting. One more cautious step took him up to his thighs, the rocks slippery beneath his feet, and he pulled back hard on the rod in an attempt to pull the fish from the water.

 With a sudden ‘ping’ the line snapped and he cascaded backwards into the cold dark waters, catching his breath cursing. 

 “Shit” he barked feeling the water spill inside his waders.  Frantically he scrambled to regain his feet but before he could do so he felt something wrap itself around his feet.

 “Dad” he screamed struggling to turn to the shore, the silhouette of his father now visible on the bank.  “Dad come on help me “ he shouted panicked.  “My feet are caught in something.

 His father never responded, simply standing and watching.

 “Dad please I nee…” he started but was unable to finish his sentence as he was dragged forcefully below the surface.  Heart racing he kicked out frantically and for a moment felt freed and gasping surfaced to see his father still stood at the waterside, the kerosene lamp now in his hand and his face quite still and calm. 

 He tried to shout but felt a force upon his shoulders drag him back under the surface and eyes wide he felt the cold waters begin to suffocate him.  He struggled and lashed out but each time he became less and less able to resist until eventually, with no strength left in him, he surrendered to the cold darkness of the lake. 

With his thoughts quickly escaping him and a fog shrouding his mind he looked out one last through the water towards the river bank to where his father still stood, the old lamp in his hands.  This time though he was not alone, and stood with him dressed all in white was a woman, a woman he recognised still. 

Slowly she walked towards where he lay beneath the water, her eyes hollow and the skin on her face pale and hanging from her bones.  It was his mother.  She had come to take him home…