Beagle in the City #86

Simon wakes up and starts rushing out from under the covers. 

Simon:  (((gag))) oh no no no. Dad. (((Gag))) Dad!! Wake up! No no.

Ethan:  It’s ok. Foot of the bed foot of the bed. Get to the hardwood floor.

Simon throws up.

Ethan:  Sh!t.

Simon: I’m sorry…((gags)) ahhhhh man. It won’t stop!

Ethan: Where are my pants! Go to the door. It’s ok. 

Simon: (throws up again.) It’s ok. I just did it under the table. No one can see it. 

Ethan: We’re still going out. You must’ve got too hot. 

Simon: I’m telling you dad. That electric blanket is witchcraft. 


Ethan: Simon! Give me that Kit Kat! spit it out! 

Simon: No! It’s mine! 

Ethan: Now!

Simon: It’s delicious! And you never share chocolates with me! 

Ethan: There is a very specific reason, which I’m sure you’re going to find out soon enough. You  bonehead! 

Simon: I don’t feel good dad. 

Ethan: If you keep on you’ll get two baths this week. And it’ll be your own fault. 

The Nightwalker 

Listen. I’m going to tell you a story. But you have to promise to listen. Otherwise, it’s all pointless and I’ve wasted your time. I don’t like to waste time. If you pay attention, I promise it’s going to be fun. 

I’m a Nightwalker. The last I suppose. I don’t really see anyone else. My name is Jack. Like Frost, but I deal with dreams. Not weather. I do see Frost from time to time. He’s always tampering with my cigarettes. 

When children sleep, they have night terrors. I don’t steal these, I simply find out why they are having them. And close those windows. 

Like apps left running in a phone. Sleep has layers. Once they understand this? Most of the time they are not afraid anymore. 

Why does John remember what he dreamed last night? Because he didn’t hit that deep sleep. Why did it feel real? Because his body and nerves were picking up his surroundings and mistaking images for interactions, again…not a  restorative   sleep. 

This is what I do. 

Did you pay attention? 



The only question left…

Do you want to have fun?

Beagle in The City #85

Simon: Oh boy! What a great walk!

Simon: We should do this walk everyday!

Simon: I’ve never smelled this before. I wonder what’s on the other side of that  hill? 

Ethan: You smell that every day. It’s the same walk we do every day…

Simon: I bet it’s a dinosaur graveyard! 

Ethan: You’ve never seen Jurassic Park have you. 

Simon: Oh come on dad. We have the best adventures. I would remember this. Now let’s go see some dinosaur bones. 

Halloween Writing Contest 

Halloween Writing Contest I was invited to participate in this Halloween Writing Contest by StephJ you can to. Just follow the link and all the rules are there. It’s going to be fun. If you were a part of her Fall blog party you know what I’m talking about. Make sure to give her a follow while you’re there. 
It was one of those nights on cemetery lane that made you feel electric with energy and somber with thought all at the same time. The air was crisp, dead leaves scattered as they ran underfoot and glided overhead, filling the night with noise. The moon was full and luminous casting an eerie light on the scene below. Halloween was in full swing, the streets were abuzz with hooded figures and lively children enjoying their annual candy hunt.

Hidden from the action at the end of the long lane of perfectly decorated houses stood the towering and dark-windowed number 13 cemetery lane. Behind it, the forest stood lightless and desolate, a depressing shadow on a lively scene. It was in this very house at this very moment that 

something old was waking up. 

Just as little Angela Lynch was stopping at the last decorated house. She was noticing this one…Angela wasn’t afraid. She was just curious. What kind of candy would be in  this house? She thought. 

She walked up the path to the steps of the house. The leaves  clearing in front of her.  She still wasn’t afraid. She knocked on the door. The one light at the back of the house, flashed back into darkness. 

She frowned. Raised her fist and knocked again. 

The door rattled and cracked and slowly moved open into the darkness. 

“Hello?” She asked. Still unafraid. Setting her candy basket down. She stepped into the house. The emptiness filled the stale air. She set her flashlight by the door. Letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Adults were always bringing things to change the rooms they entered. She didn’t want to do that. She wanted to learn something from this room. She wanted to adapt. To understand it’s emptiness. 

There was a staircase. A bookshelf. And a room…open…with a high backed leather chair…and a desk. With paper and ink…someone had been writing. 

“Aren’t you afraid,child?”  

The rough whisper came from the stairs. 

“I’m not afraid of anything ” Angela said firmly.

“And why not?” It asked. 

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” She said confidently. 

“And are you so sure?” 

The shadow extended an arm towards her. The front door slamming shut behind her.  

Angela felt cold. She closed her fists and pinched her leg. “Yes. I’m always sure. My name is Angela. Angela Lynch. What’s your name? Are you a monster? Or a demon? Or a person?”

“You wouldn’t be able to say my name.” The shadow breathed heavily. Slowly moving down the steps to the floor with Angela. Which changed everything. Because some dark things are much easier to accept while  they are across a room or far away. But when they are there with you. They consume so much more .  “I am none of those things. Just old. Very old. ” It said. Slowly coming into the light from the window. 

She was surprised. It was just a man. A tall man. But darkness hung around him. His skin almost transparent. He could see her surprise and moving to the window said “Every year the monsters come out to play. But I’ve lived long enough, 900 years, do you know what that’s like? To live a lifetime times nine? “

Angela looked around the room. The books piled along the walls a lifetime of reading lists.

He continued “it’s long enough to outlive all of the history. Watch your existence and memories turn into folklore and children’s stories. I had a beautiful bride. But they burned her. I was the most powerful warlock and she was the oldest vampire. 900 is long enough to watch men turn into the things they fear and hate. They became monsters and we became shadows.”

Angela sat with her legs crossed sifting through the books with 300 year old handwritten notes in the margins. Stuffed with letters folded as bookmarks. She looked around “why don’t you Ever go out? There are a lot of good things left.” She rubbed her nose fighting off the urge to sneeze. 

“I’ve lived long enough. I’ve seen all there is. And every Halloween, We would go out among the people and keep current. I think it’s more than I could take now.” 

The door opened. 

“You can leave if you wish.”

Angela looked around. All the books. “Do you have friends?” She asked. 

He looked surprised. “People come…the pizza man. And I’m really close to the Chinese delivery man. They have the best sesame chicken. It’s secret is …” 

” I mean real friends. People who spend time with you.” 

“No. I’m afraid…I don’t think I’m ready. This house is so big anyway. Half the time I’m afraid of it. I only stay in these rooms.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not afraid of anything.” Angela said standing up.

“We can’t.”

 “It’s Halloween no one will expect anything less than …your dark creepiness thing. Come on, we’re going out besides, you owe me candy. Have you ever had falafel? Don’t. It’s over rated. Now let me tell you about tacos.” 


Beagle in the City#84

Simon: It was a dark October night. The house was closing in upon me. I could hear from my cage as the murder was happening. I closed in on my suspect, using only my keen, canine senses.

He was a wiry man. Eyes filled with evil. Not very attractive. But he couldn’t help it. He was crazy after all. He’s spotted me. Locked in my cage. He was closing in on me. 

My time had come. On this October night. Blood soaked everything. I could practically hear the sizzle as the flesh cooked from his latest victim. Would I be saved?

Ethan: Simon? Simon? What are you doing? Are you ok?

Simon: Hey dad. Can I help make hamburgers? I’m hungry. 

Ethan: I don’t think I should let you watch Hannibal anymore…

Beagle in the City #83

Simon: There’s something in the ground. 

Ethan: Are you sure?

Simon: Right here,dad. In this hole. 

Simon: cam’t you shmell ifft? 

Ethan: What? Uhm. No. My nose won’t let me breathe dirt. 

Ethan: Come on, we’re making stone soup. You can help us with that. 

Simon: Bark! Your shoe is staring at me. Why isn’t it blinking!

Ethan: and that’s why you need a bath. 

Simon: Ohhh. I thought it was because I ran through the bushes with the Black Widows. 

Ethan: yeeeghsss 

Ethan: on second thought, you know what,You’re a smart dog. I think you can figure out how to wash yourself. Here’s the soap. 

Simon: Hey, come back!  when are we going to eat the stone soup? I’m hungry

The Party Guest

Someone had told him about witches once when he was a boy. But he had laughed. Those were just fairy tales. Not anything real.

This Halloween party was boring him to death. The boredom was palpable.

That’s when he saw her in the corner. Black heels, a tight fishnet  dress with sleeves fanning  out over her wrists. She had a drink in her hand. He liked the way she looked at him-the way she smiled just as she slipped out of the room  into the library. 

He followed her. 

Someone told him once about ghosts. But he didn’t believe in things like that. They weren’t real. They were just stories we tell.

There was a conversation once about sex, but he couldn’t remember it. A science experiment, rats being electrocuted on a treadmill but followed by an orgasm. They kept going until they died. He couldn’t remember the details. 

The library was empty. Her glass was on the floor. The door was open. He walked out into the darkness. Her shoes were cast off on the path. The cold darkness was something he couldn’t feel. She was just ahead of him. Slowly undressing leaving a new article of clothing on the path. 

His head was pounding…he was burning up. 

It seemed as though shadows ran past him. Screams in the trees. Pitched echoes and whispers beside him, followed by laughing. 

She was standing there in the middle of the path. Waiting.

She turned her back to him, giving him her neck, he smelled her hair. Just the slip of her dress left cast on the ground. She took his hands and pulled them around her. She was completely naked. And warm.

His hands were shaking as he touched her.

Everything was so heavy and blurred. 

All of the voices.

He touched her. 

All of the voices came together. Right there before him. From her.

The dead girl in his arms. Blood warm. Her dress torn from her, left hanging by fragments. Her feet bleeding from running barefoot. 

There was only darkness. Only cold. Only silence. 

Turning back to the house. A white shirt in plastic was hanging from a tree. He took it. Changing quickly as he walked. Followed by a suit jacket. 

Someone told him once about vampires. But he knew, they were just the dead. The real demons were the living. Hunting for sex, for power, seeing everything as an invitation. 

Last- a pair of shoes on the well. He slipped them on and dropped his dirty pair into the dark water. He stepped  back into the library. Picking up the drink from the floor, he closed the door. 

“Great party!” Someone said. 

He turned around, smiling and raised his glass. He nodded to his guests.