Mr. Crabtree's HouseA Story by Samuel DickensHe doesn't like being disturbed.
William peeked out the window and cursed the sunrise. That which had filled his heart with hope and optimism a few years earlier, now mocked his sadness. Fleeing to his dark living room, he sat on a dusty, ragged recliner. God, this torment is too great! Stumbling to the bar, he rifled through the empty liquor bottles, searching for a drop of anything that might numb his pain. No whiskey, no relief, no anything for me but this cold, empty house.
One day she’ll come back to me---I just know it. She must come back! Wracked with pain, he collapsed on the bed and stared at the spot where Karen used to lay. It wasn’t right of you to leave me, you know. You meant everything to
me. This house, once so full of life, is now my tomb. I’m waiting for you.
Please come back! As he did every day at sunrise, William cursed his surroundings and cried himself to sleep. That evening just after sunset, he awoke to loud knocking on the front door. Who is it? Who dares to disturb my rest? Kids! I hear kid’s voices on
the porch. The little villains; I hate kids! Bang, bang, bang. “Trick or treat!” William stomped across the living room, pounded his fists on the door and angrily growled, “Go away!” “Ayeeeee!” screamed the children, fleeing back to the sidewalk. His knees knocking beneath his Dracula cloak, Arthur told the others, “See, I told you this house was haunted!” © 2012 Samuel DickensAuthor's Note
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10 Reviews Added on October 16, 2011 Last Updated on October 6, 2012 AuthorSamuel DickensAlma, ARAboutGreetings, all. I'm a seventy-seven year-old father of three sons who enjoys writing, art, music, motorcycles, cooking, and a few other things. From 1967 to 1988, I served in the US Navy, where I trav.. more.. |

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