Climbing down the ladder we came to the ground floor, with the passage leading to the pantry. “Should we stop here?” said Aisha, taking the iPhone out of her mouth and shining the torch light up the dingy corridor. “I really think we need to check out the basement.” I tapped my foot impatiently on the rung above her head. “We don’t know if Crazy Junifer is waiting in the kitchen.” Aisha looked up at me and frowned. “She could be anywhere.” “Can we just get going? The faster we get to the basement the faster we can get out … Continue reading The Sale. Part 10. A short series.

We made it to the floor access. The iPhone torch light reflected off the shiny ladder, floating dust motes and hanging cobwebs. “We’re going down there?” said Aisha. Her face wrinkled in dismay. “I don’t know. It’s bad enough I’m in a dark passage with some stranger…” I slapped my forehead. “Oh, sorry. I’m John. Forgot to introduce myself.” “That’s because you were too busy screaming like a little old lady.” “Yes, well we can’t all be heroes, can we?” “You’re also a hog.” She snatched the cellphone away and shone its light down the ladder recess. “So we have … Continue reading The Sale. Part 9. A short series.

I flung myself off the bed, seeking to extricate my lower leg from whatever was grabbing it. My effeminate scream echoed through the room. “Oh, shut up,” cried a female voice from below. My leg was released and I huddled against the wall under the shuttered window. An attractive African-American woman in her mid-20’s pulled herself from under the bed and stood. She was dishevelled, dressed in what looked like a tie-dyed hippie dress. “Who are you?” I said, eyes wide in disbelief. “I’m Aisha,” said the woman, smiling. “Sorry I scared you. You scream like a girl, you know.” … Continue reading The Sale. Part 8. A short story.