Bob Boyd's Mini Stories – Page 3 – Fiction and nonfiction stores usually under a thousand words written daily.

The Ghost of James Hartness

In Springfield Vermont, stands the Hartness House Inn an elegant, looming gables mansion built in 1904.

Once the home of James Hartness, an inventor extraordinaire a governor of Vermont, an aviator, an industrialist and more in want of a quieter environment, he a built a network of tunnels under his mansion, a subterranean sanctuary with a library, a workshop, a study and an apartment.

Twenty years after Hartness died in 1934, the mansion was converted into an inn, and the ghost of Hartness is believed to be haunting it: strange sensations, lights flickering, rocking chairs rocking by themselves, objects fly off shelves, sounds of someone murmuring.

But smart as Hartness was, if he is haunting the mansion, why couldn’t he find his way to the Light?
Or is he locked into doing what he still thinks is his material world work in his subterranean, tunneled haunts?

Bob Boyd

Werewolfing

The locals claimed a werewolf prowled the forest next to their village. Patrick O’Leary, newcomer to the village, didn’t believe a word of it. It was nonsense talk, he knew. Werewolves were make believe monsters.

To prove his point, he accepted a dare to go into the forest on a full moon night.

He hiked all over the forest that night with only owls in sight but no werewolves. He laughed out loud in the deepest part of the forest before he made his way back home.

He stopped at the village tavern to the surprise of the locals who thought they’d never see him again after his foolhardy trek in the forest that night. He boasted about braving the forest where not a werewolf appeared.

He left the tavern three mugs of bear later a few minutes later, the locals in the tavern heard a howl and a scream. One of them said, “That’s Reverend John Marks again. I wish he’d just stick to preaching instead of his full moon werewolfing.”

And nobody was surprised the next day when the village constable found the remains of Patrick O’Leary in severed pieces.

Bob Boyd

The Suicide Jump

The day was dark. The clouds blocked the sun. William was weary. He’d been through too much trouble at work and at home. His wife was always nagging him. His boss was always badgering him to work faster. His life had become abysmal.

He decided to end all the misery by killing himself. He took an elevator to the top of a ten story building in his city determined to jump off it.

When he got to the top, he was a pretty woman his age standing on the ledge about to jump off. In a gentle voice, he said, “Don’t … don’t do it. You’re too pretty to die.”

“Join me,” she said. “Let’s die together. I feel like we have a connection.”

Strange as that sounded said by a stranger, William felt she was right. He climbed up on the ledge beside her and told her he loved her.

“On three,” she said. One … two … three! John jumped to his death on three. The woman chickened out. See John’s body a smashed dot ten stories down, she vowed she’d never be suicidal again.

But before she could get off the ledge, a gust of wind blew her off it and she screamed all the way down, as John’s vengeful spirit gleefully looked on.

Bob Boyd