Hello, and welcome to the fifth issue of
Tales from Snippettsville
, Short Stories From A Small Town.
If you want to know what it's all about, go to
Snippettsville Group
If you have any feedback, and let's face it, as writers we all love feedback, just click on the author's name, in blue at the head of their piece. If you want to make a general comment on the group, click on the group link above.
Contents of Issue 5
Mermaid by Moonlight
by Alex de Kok
Evidentiary Proceedings
by Quasimodem
Return and First Prey - Sian Sempreviva
by perdita
Another Furriner
by gauchecritic
Illustrations
Header Picture, (c)Couture, 2003
Footer Picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2003
Now read on...
* * * * *
Mermaid by Moonlight
by
Alex de Kok
I couldn't settle in the heat. I wandered out onto the dock, naked. There's only our cottage in the bay and access is either by boat or by a private back road, so I didn't fear being seen. The moon was near full and on impulse I stepped down into the boat, hoisted the sails and cast off. It was a little cooler out on the water, but not much. The breeze was light, warm, and the boat ghosted along at a couple of knots. I knew where the hazards were and I didn't anticipate any problems.
Along the bay I could see the dying glow of a campfire on one of the beaches. I could see figures moving and I watched until they were out of sight. Near the main holiday cabin area I went about. I'd sailed down on a reach and I knew I was going to have to tack back.
I was startled suddenly by a soft hail. "Hey, Charlie!"
I looked around, wondering where the call came from because sound can carry a long way over water, when I heard a gentle splashing. I peered into the darkness and could just make out a figure swimming strongly towards me. I turned the boat into the wind and the way fell off. A few strokes brought the figure to the side and a familiar face grinned at me over her hands grasping the side.
"Hi, Charlie, surprise!"
"Sally! What are you. . . I mean. . ."
"What am I doing here? Waiting for you."
"Me? Why?"
"I saw the boat before and guessed it was you. I figured you'd be coming back, so I waited, then swam out. Can I come aboard?"
"Hell, yes." I reached out a hand to help her over the side and just about the time I remembered I was naked, saw that she was, too. The night hid my flush and I busied myself in dropping the sails. The breeze was gentle and I knew we would only drift slowly. Sally Jansen settled herself and grinned at me, comfortable in her nudity.
"Charlie, can I ask a favour?"
"Sure."
"Are you alone at the cottage?"
"Yeah."
"Can I stay with you until next weekend? I'll help with food costs," she said earnestly.
"Can I ask why?"
"Nine of us came up for the week, but the others have all paired off. I don't want to go home yet, but I feel like a spare part." She made a face. "All I hear is the sounds of fucking."
I laughed, jealous suddenly. "Yeah, you can stay. Have you got a sleeping bag?"
"Yep."
"How about I pick you up at the main dock in the morning?"
"Great. About ten?"
"Okay."
"Doing anything special up here, Charlie?"
"Some painting." I let myself look at her, silvered by the moonlight. Slim, athletic, beautiful. Emboldened by the dark I said, "I'd like to paint you, just like that."
She looked at me for a long moment. "Nude?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"Can you paint me so that no-one will recognise me?"
"Easily."
"Okay, then." She grinned, then sobered. "How's Nancy?"
"It's over. She's gone off to the West coast to try to make it as an actress." My ex. I missed her glorious body, her zest for fucking. I'd realised I wouldn't miss her pea-sized brain.
"I'm glad," Sally said quietly.
My heart leaped and life began to look good again. Sally stood, glorious in the moonlight.
"What else are you doing besides painting?"
I shrugged.
Sally grinned. "We can always fuck," she said and dived neatly over the side.
* * * * *
Evidentiary Proceedings
by
Quasimodem
(Follow-up to“The Golden Oak” by wildsweetone used with the author’s permission.)
Moving like an old man, Tom Holt lowered himself into the swivel chair behind his desk.
“Anyone who fucks up an important case like you have,” State Police Detective, Derrick Sarns began, “will be lucky to find work selling fishing licenses at Green Lake’s Ranger Station.”
Sarns then exited, slamming the door with a bang.
“What’s his problem?” Jennifer Tillies, Police Chief Holt’s secretary and general office factotum inquired.
“Snippettsville has had its first homicide in nine years. Sarns is pissed because the investigating officer screwed up.”
“Oh! You mean at ‘The Golden Oaks.’ I thought that was a suicide.”
“What it was, according to Sarns,” Tom enunciated bitterly, “was ‘a homicide and a suicide.’”
“Oh, dear!” Jennifer replied, laying soothing hands on Tom’s shoulders.
“When I saw Kevin with his hand grasping the revolver, I knew it was suicide,” Tom explained, blankly. “I was even thankful the old lady wasn’t there to see him like that.”
“That’s typical,” Jennifer avowed, stoutly. “You’re the most considerate man I know.”
“Ha!” Tom snorted. “That’s not Sarns’ opinion. While I was downstairs with Kevin waiting for the meatwagon, Elizabeth Dresden was upstairs, murdered in her bed.”
“Oh, no!”
“I held a half hour seance with the nephew, while his aunt’s murderer made a clean getaway.”
“Oh, Tom!”
“The way Sarns sees it, Kevin came home, found his aunt murdered, and became so unbalanced, that he committed suicide.”
“Kevin?” Jennifer’s voice filled with disbelief. “Kevin Dresden committed suicide over his aunt’s murder?”
“Well, the two were kind of close.”
“I don’t believe it!”