One Dark Quiet Night Disterbed

Yellow Mama 2020

One Dark Quiet Night Disturbed

 

There knock on the door followed the ringing of the doorbell. No one comes to my house tucked away in the woods, Mirsky thought.

 

He peered out the dining room window and in the moonlight saw three shapes—two adult and one child.

 

He flicked on the porch light, left the chain on the door and opened it. Standing there were three Gypsy’s—the one he thought a child was a little person. Mirsky had never met a Gypsy but he had no doubt in his mind that these were authentic Gypsies and would clean out his house in minutes.

 

“Yes,” he said.

 

“Our van broke down near your driveway and we’d like to call a garage,” the Gypsy woman said.

 

“It’s late. All the garages are closed. Do you have AAA?”

 

“No.” said the woman.

 

“I’ll call them on my card. Go wait by your car.”

 

“Can we use the bathroom?”

 

“Sorry, pipe burst so there’s no water.”

 

“Can we come in and wait?” She asked.

 

“Unfortunately, my wife is ill and contagious so we can’t take a chance on anyone catching what she has.”

 

“We haven’t eaten in a while. Do you have any food?”

 

“I’ll look but we’ve been stuck in the house and haven’t been able to get to the store for days.”

 

Mirsky returns with a bag of food but it won’t slip through the chained opening.

 

“I’ll fit if you unlock the chain,” the lady says.

 

“I don’t have my key handy,” Mirsky tells her as he begins to unload the bag and hand food items through the opening one by one.”

 

“We’re vegetarians and can’t eat these cold cuts,” the Gypsy lady says.

 

Mirsky takes the cold cuts back and goes into the kitchen to get some cheese and crackers. He hears the chain snap and creak of the door opening. He runs out the back door leaving his empty house to the Gypsies.

 

By the time he gets to his neighbors, some distance away, he sees the Gypsies walking down their driveway and hides in the bushes not knowing which way to turn since now he’s cold and hungry and wishing he had the cold cuts with him

 

 

Back to Online Stories



© 2020 Paul Beckman’s Short Stories • Rights Reserved.
Palm Tree Creative