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We’re standing on a hill, near the fringes of a copse. It is night. Before us, a dark landscape. We are dressed in black.
What did we do? What did I do?
We haven’t done anything yet.
How is that possible? Is this now or is it then? The past or the present? I can’t be in two places at the same time.
Obviously we can be, for we are.
Humbug. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll descend this here hill, at the base of which I’ll locate a road, then I’ll follow that road to a crossroads where I’ll go left, which will be west, and as dawn breaks I’ll find a town, or a hamlet, and in the heart of that place I’ll loiter until I see a person, another living being, there must be one, and I will approach that person projecting a friendly demeanour, and I will speak to him-or-her thus: Excuse me, sir/madam, I am new to this area, could you tell me where I am? And he-she will say … what will they say?
They’ll inform you where we are.
But where will that be?
We don’t know yet, we’re still standing on top of the hill.
But shouldn’t I already know? Haven’t I been down there yet? I’m sure I have. I can remember talking to an old lady.
Really? What did she say?
She said I should be locked up. She said I am a disgrace. She said people will never forgive me or forget what I’ve done. She said I am evil, and a coward, and that I should be ashamed.
Why, what have we done?
She said they’ll be looking for me. She said I’ll get what’s coming to me. She said I’m living on borrowed time.
What did we say?
Nothing. I was stunned by her gall. I can see one of her wrinkled fingers pointing at me, almost prodding my chest. I think I grabbed it, twisted it, snapped it. She howled, and to shut her up I clobbered her with a stick I’d carried down from the hill.
What did we do next?
Clobbered her some more, about the head and face, whilst she was helpless on the ground. I even think her false teeth popped out. When she was quite still, I dragged her body into an alleyway where I concealed it with bags of rubbish and a cardboard box. After that I hid halfway up an outside stairwell, looking down to check if anybody had seen what I’d done.
And had they? Was anyone else around?
No. The old lady was the only person out and about so early. For the next twenty minutes or so, nothing happened, until I heard the engine of car revving wildly. Moments later it passed my vantage point doing quite a speed. A red car pulling a small trailer.
What then?
I decided to climb the stairwell, though at the top I was thwarted by a door. I tried the handle, but it was locked. I tried to force it, but it wouldn’t budge. By now the sun had risen. Some of the windows were aglow with orange light. I descended the stairwell and ran across an expanse of grass towards a building I presumed was the church, yet before I reached its large doors I was sidetracked by a tall gate, beyond which I could see tombstones. A graveyard is a good place to lurk, a quiet place to remain unnoticed. Those were my exact thoughts. Has this happened or not?
We’re still standing on top of the hill.
Then it hasn’t. Thank heavens. It must’ve been a dream. What a dismal dream. Why did the old lady say such awful things?
Another witch. Hags haunt dreams. Tis common knowledge.
Nevertheless, so not to tempt fate I’ll be taking the right fork at the crossroads, if at all the crossroads is there. And to further foil my dream’s dark plan, I will wait here for the dawn. The birds of this copse are already chirping. That’s a sure sign daybreak is near. Yes, I will wait for the day to enlighten the land. Darkness is not my friend.
What did we do? What did I do?
We haven’t done anything yet.
How is that possible? Is this now or is it then? The past or the present? I can’t be in two places at the same time.
Obviously we can be, for we are.
Humbug. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll descend this here hill, at the base of which I’ll locate a road, then I’ll follow that road to a crossroads where I’ll go left, which will be west, and as dawn breaks I’ll find a town, or a hamlet, and in the heart of that place I’ll loiter until I see a person, another living being, there must be one, and I will approach that person projecting a friendly demeanour, and I will speak to him-or-her thus: Excuse me, sir/madam, I am new to this area, could you tell me where I am? And he-she will say … what will they say?
They’ll inform you where we are.
But where will that be?
We don’t know yet, we’re still standing on top of the hill.
But shouldn’t I already know? Haven’t I been down there yet? I’m sure I have. I can remember talking to an old lady.
Really? What did she say?
She said I should be locked up. She said I am a disgrace. She said people will never forgive me or forget what I’ve done. She said I am evil, and a coward, and that I should be ashamed.
Why, what have we done?
She said they’ll be looking for me. She said I’ll get what’s coming to me. She said I’m living on borrowed time.
What did we say?
Nothing. I was stunned by her gall. I can see one of her wrinkled fingers pointing at me, almost prodding my chest. I think I grabbed it, twisted it, snapped it. She howled, and to shut her up I clobbered her with a stick I’d carried down from the hill.
What did we do next?
Clobbered her some more, about the head and face, whilst she was helpless on the ground. I even think her false teeth popped out. When she was quite still, I dragged her body into an alleyway where I concealed it with bags of rubbish and a cardboard box. After that I hid halfway up an outside stairwell, looking down to check if anybody had seen what I’d done.
And had they? Was anyone else around?
No. The old lady was the only person out and about so early. For the next twenty minutes or so, nothing happened, until I heard the engine of car revving wildly. Moments later it passed my vantage point doing quite a speed. A red car pulling a small trailer.
What then?
I decided to climb the stairwell, though at the top I was thwarted by a door. I tried the handle, but it was locked. I tried to force it, but it wouldn’t budge. By now the sun had risen. Some of the windows were aglow with orange light. I descended the stairwell and ran across an expanse of grass towards a building I presumed was the church, yet before I reached its large doors I was sidetracked by a tall gate, beyond which I could see tombstones. A graveyard is a good place to lurk, a quiet place to remain unnoticed. Those were my exact thoughts. Has this happened or not?
We’re still standing on top of the hill.
Then it hasn’t. Thank heavens. It must’ve been a dream. What a dismal dream. Why did the old lady say such awful things?
Another witch. Hags haunt dreams. Tis common knowledge.
Nevertheless, so not to tempt fate I’ll be taking the right fork at the crossroads, if at all the crossroads is there. And to further foil my dream’s dark plan, I will wait here for the dawn. The birds of this copse are already chirping. That’s a sure sign daybreak is near. Yes, I will wait for the day to enlighten the land. Darkness is not my friend.
Interesting, though I didn't find it an easy read. Good idea, I just didn't think it worked as well as your other story.
We’re standing on a hill, near the fringes of a copse. It is night. Before us, a dark landscape. We are dressed in black.
What did we do? What did I do?
We haven’t done anything yet.
How is that possible? Is this now or is it then? The past or the present? I can’t be in two places at the same time.
Obviously we can be, for we are.
Humbug. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll descend this here hill, at the base of which I’ll locate a road, then I’ll follow that road to a crossroads where I’ll go left, which will be west, and as dawn breaks I’ll find a town, or a hamlet, and in the heart of that place I’ll loiter until I see a person, another living being, there must be one, and I will approach that person projecting a friendly demeanour, and I will speak to him-or-her thus: Excuse me, sir/madam, I am new to this area, could you tell me where I am? And he-she will say … what will they say?
They’ll inform you where we are.
But where will that be?
We don’t know yet, we’re still standing on top of the hill.
But shouldn’t I already know? Haven’t I been down there yet? I’m sure I have. I can remember talking to an old lady.
Really? What did she say?
She said I should be locked up. She said I am a disgrace. She said people will never forgive me or forget what I’ve done. She said I am evil, and a coward, and that I should be ashamed.
Why, what have we done?
She said they’ll be looking for me. She said I’ll get what’s coming to me. She said I’m living on borrowed time.
What did we say?
Nothing. I was stunned by her gall. I can see one of her wrinkled fingers pointing at me, almost prodding my chest. I think I grabbed it, twisted it, snapped it. She howled, and to shut her up I clobbered her with a stick I’d carried down from the hill.
What did we do next?
Clobbered her some more, about the head and face, whilst she was helpless on the ground. I even think her false teeth popped out. When she was quite still, I dragged her body into an alleyway where I concealed it with bags of rubbish and a cardboard box. After that I hid halfway up an outside stairwell, looking down to check if anybody had seen what I’d done.
And had they? Was anyone else around?
No. The old lady was the only person out and about so early. For the next twenty minutes or so, nothing happened, until I heard the engine of car revving wildly. Moments later it passed my vantage point doing quite a speed. A red car pulling a small trailer.
What then?
I decided to climb the stairwell, though at the top I was thwarted by a door. I tried the handle, but it was locked. I tried to force it, but it wouldn’t budge. By now the sun had risen. Some of the windows were aglow with orange light. I descended the stairwell and ran across an expanse of grass towards a building I presumed was the church, yet before I reached its large doors I was sidetracked by a tall gate, beyond which I could see tombstones. A graveyard is a good place to lurk, a quiet place to remain unnoticed. Those were my exact thoughts. Has this happened or not?
We’re still standing on top of the hill.
Then it hasn’t. Thank heavens. It must’ve been a dream. What a dismal dream. Why did the old lady say such awful things?
Another witch. Hags haunt dreams. Tis common knowledge.
Nevertheless, so not to tempt fate I’ll be taking the right fork at the crossroads, if at all the crossroads is there. And to further foil my dream’s dark plan, I will wait here for the dawn. The birds of this copse are already chirping. That’s a sure sign daybreak is near. Yes, I will wait for the day to enlighten the land. Darkness is not my friend.
What did we do? What did I do?
We haven’t done anything yet.
How is that possible? Is this now or is it then? The past or the present? I can’t be in two places at the same time.
Obviously we can be, for we are.
Humbug. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll descend this here hill, at the base of which I’ll locate a road, then I’ll follow that road to a crossroads where I’ll go left, which will be west, and as dawn breaks I’ll find a town, or a hamlet, and in the heart of that place I’ll loiter until I see a person, another living being, there must be one, and I will approach that person projecting a friendly demeanour, and I will speak to him-or-her thus: Excuse me, sir/madam, I am new to this area, could you tell me where I am? And he-she will say … what will they say?
They’ll inform you where we are.
But where will that be?
We don’t know yet, we’re still standing on top of the hill.
But shouldn’t I already know? Haven’t I been down there yet? I’m sure I have. I can remember talking to an old lady.
Really? What did she say?
She said I should be locked up. She said I am a disgrace. She said people will never forgive me or forget what I’ve done. She said I am evil, and a coward, and that I should be ashamed.
Why, what have we done?
She said they’ll be looking for me. She said I’ll get what’s coming to me. She said I’m living on borrowed time.
What did we say?
Nothing. I was stunned by her gall. I can see one of her wrinkled fingers pointing at me, almost prodding my chest. I think I grabbed it, twisted it, snapped it. She howled, and to shut her up I clobbered her with a stick I’d carried down from the hill.
What did we do next?
Clobbered her some more, about the head and face, whilst she was helpless on the ground. I even think her false teeth popped out. When she was quite still, I dragged her body into an alleyway where I concealed it with bags of rubbish and a cardboard box. After that I hid halfway up an outside stairwell, looking down to check if anybody had seen what I’d done.
And had they? Was anyone else around?
No. The old lady was the only person out and about so early. For the next twenty minutes or so, nothing happened, until I heard the engine of car revving wildly. Moments later it passed my vantage point doing quite a speed. A red car pulling a small trailer.
What then?
I decided to climb the stairwell, though at the top I was thwarted by a door. I tried the handle, but it was locked. I tried to force it, but it wouldn’t budge. By now the sun had risen. Some of the windows were aglow with orange light. I descended the stairwell and ran across an expanse of grass towards a building I presumed was the church, yet before I reached its large doors I was sidetracked by a tall gate, beyond which I could see tombstones. A graveyard is a good place to lurk, a quiet place to remain unnoticed. Those were my exact thoughts. Has this happened or not?
We’re still standing on top of the hill.
Then it hasn’t. Thank heavens. It must’ve been a dream. What a dismal dream. Why did the old lady say such awful things?
Another witch. Hags haunt dreams. Tis common knowledge.
Nevertheless, so not to tempt fate I’ll be taking the right fork at the crossroads, if at all the crossroads is there. And to further foil my dream’s dark plan, I will wait here for the dawn. The birds of this copse are already chirping. That’s a sure sign daybreak is near. Yes, I will wait for the day to enlighten the land. Darkness is not my friend.