The Skies Are Lighted With Lamps #20 (A part of my novel)

In the bedroom, Merry waited on him.  She believed he was through taking care of the dogs, however, hearing the sound of his blade, she got out of bed.

“What’s wrong, Toney, what is going on?”  With a shriek in her voice, her head pushed out from the doorway; Merry gazed at her husband.  Her forehead creased.

“The dogs are missing!”  He responded, sounding as though moaning the lost of a dear friend.

“They will return my love, you have trained them well!”

Sternness filled the room.  “Merry John, it is my duty to take care of my—.”

Before he could finish, Merry said, “Take the lamp in the kitchen dear, go, bring them home.”

He turned to look at the forest outside, then to the floor.  A few seconds after, with the machete firmly gripped in his hand, he turned to her.  By this time, she was fully in the corridor between their bedroom and Jason’s.  A bed sheet wrapped around her body, one hand held the two ends together, the other clinched her belly.

Toney raised his chin, and made a step towards her.  She moved one step back.  Moving her hand from her belly she braced herself against the wall.

“I have to do this.”

“They will come back,” she shrugged.

“They are still knew, I can’t take that chance.”

“I am sure they are outside in the yard somewhere just having fun.”

“I called, they are not here.”

“Go, we love you,” she gave a dismissive wave.

Toney slowly turned from her, grabbed the lamp and disappeared through the door.

Merry moved towards the door and pulled it in.

A slight drizzle now lashed against the roof.

She whispered, “Toney, I love you.”

She did not see herself sleeping that night until her husband returned.

As she walked away from the door, to the corner of her eyes the rains started entering the half shut window over the kitchen sink.  She went over and pull it in.

Copyright © 2017 David Alexian

All rights reserved.

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Flash fiction #4

I could smell the gas, bleeding through the pipes. I shudder to think that this entire neighborhood could become nonexistent in minutes. The right thing will be to tell them to leave, but if we did, he could make good his promise and ignite us all the same. I waited for the call. The pay phone rang, just as he had said; on the hour, every hour.
“Hello, this is detective Charles speaking, is this…?”