Suspense In The Dark

The lights go dark,

And all the sounds

Are amplified in my mind.

What was that?

Was that the floor creaking?

I jump as I hear

A car door close,

The sound drifting

through the window.

Then there is that noise again.

Is that someone in the house?

I feel my way to the desk

And find the flashlight

Tucked away in the drawer.

The sound comes closer

And I turn on the light.

What is it?

Whose there?

… no one will ever know

As I lay dying on the floor.


Written for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (FOWC) – suspense

Check This Out

The noise wasn’t very loud.  It was constant though and Becky was beginning to take umbrage to it.  She had woken up with a headache and was sitting in a quiet dark room; quiet except for the hammering.  It was like a constant drip from a leaky faucet… pound, pound, pound.  Her neighbors were getting a new garage and the construction crew had started at 8am.  She was convinced they had to have a double sized crew there today… pound, pound, pound.  Finally she had enough.  She decided to go to the quietest place she knew – the library.


Written for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (FOWC) – umbrage

Never Pleased

He came to the counter with an arrogant swagger.  The clerk started to say, “Good morn-“

“Can I speak to a manager?”  he interrupted in a brash manner.

The hotel clerk said, “I am the current supervisor on shift.”

“Well all I can say is this is the most sub-par room I have ever stayed in.  I’m surprised I am not leaving with a hundred bedbugs!”

“Is there anything we can do to make the rest of your stay more pleasant?”

“I doubt it.  There was a racket from the pool first thing this morning and I woke up after only 4 hours of sleep.”

“Do you want to move to a quieter room?”

“That would be too much of a hassle for me.  Just know I am leaving a terrible review when I leave.”  And he stormed off towards the free breakfast bar.


Written for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (FOWC) – brash

I Guess I’ll Write

The luminescent glow from the alarm clock softly lit the room. “If I get to sleep now,” thought Sara, “I can still get four hours of sleep.” The sounds drifting through the window hinted however that the odds of getting to sleep soon were not good.

The neighbors were having a family cookout that was still going strong after starting seven hours earlier. Sara sighed and rolled over again. Thinking the radio might block out the noise she turned it on, but it was no use. She gave up and put her robe on heading to the computer to write.

Inner Voices

“you’re not good enough”
“you ruined it”
“no one cares about you.”
“you’re so pathetic”
all the noise in my head
tries to knock me down
make me feel at fault
but I still look for a way
to silence the shouts
and let the whispers be heard
“you did great”
”you are loved by many”
“you are strong”
“you are beautiful”