Living Room Grapes: A Short Story
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The Fox and The Sour Grapes - Short Story
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This is an account of what happened in that alley in There was a cat. Yes, a cat. Well, it was, for that cat was a good cat, and one day, that cat would help millions of other cats in need. I heard screaming and shouting going on downstairs. My pets Scooter the black cat, Nikko the French bulldog, and Autumn the tortoiseshell cat never even noticed all the comotion. There were twenty moving men in my house with me and my family, trying to get everything put into boxes and. My senile grandpa lived with us for a short while before his death. He'd sleep on the floor in the living room, claimed beds were uncomfortable. Our cat, Miles, would knock knickknacks off the shelves onto grandpa in the night.
He'd wake up pissed as hell, fuming about how the cat was trying to kill him like in the Cat From Hell segment from Tales From The Darkside. Forget cats and dogs, It was raining elephants and hippopotamuses outside. Im pretty sure that is not a good exaggeration of this phrase.. The lights began to flicker as the rain poured even harder. It was getting dark outside and my youngest child, who was only a few months old, had refused to take a nap earlier so I had to strap him to me, while he was. These contradictions, combined with his actions make me doubt the legitimacy and truth of what he says. In the first few paragraphs of the story, the narrator makes a point of rejecting the idea that he is mad.
Gothic short stories Gothic stories are very dark and disturbing. The pain that they suffer can be connected to their relationships. In each story the mental decay of the main character is building from the beginning and gets worse as the story develops. This is most obvious in the Black Cat and Prey. These two characters start off pretty normal but then you start to see the change in their behavior and. Mornings, the dreaded sunlight always beaming with such happiness with such life giving essence and those fucking annoying birds. So, bloody cheerfully chirping. Living alone with her many cats and surviving whatever supernatural threat is thrown at her by fate and the adventures Katy will find. Did I forget to mention I hate mornings?! This is why I work the graveyard shift or night shift.
So when I say mornings I really mean 10pm to sunrise or nap time. I had to Giggle, at that one. As I am rising from my bed like the dead I look over at the digital brightly lite clock and it blinks at me: PM Blink. The clock blinked at me and I blinked back as in disbelief. What the fuck am I doing up at this hour. The shutters flapped in the wind and I swear I could hear a scream from inside. Breathe, it will all be fine, I told myself reassuringly. I took a deep breath, held my head up high, and walked inside. To my left was a few couches that looked like they were found straight off of the street. I walked to the right to find what I thought was a check-in desk.
The only thing on the desk was a small bell. I had rung the bell so many times that my fingers were starting to hurt. Finally after two more minutes of nervous ringing, a woman approached me. Her dark brown hair was swept neatly into a bun and her uniform-a bright blue dress-was freshly ironed. She seemed oddly out of place. I handed her the money and in return, she gave me a giant rusty key that looked as old as the hotel. I nodded and followed her directions. Finally, I arrived at my room only to find that there was no keyhole to the door. I pushed on the door, my weight causing it to creak open. The room before me was small, dark, and cluttered with stained furniture. As I put my bag down, I noticed a keyhole in one of the chests.
I jiggled the key around in it and to my surprise it unlocked. A once-hidden door appeared behind it. The door seemed to be just big enough for me to crawl into it. Gripping my phone flashlight in my mouth, I crouched into the dark hole. I stepped onto the hard tiles beneath me. A frigid gust of wind frightened me as my eyes were trying to adjust to the darkness. I held my phone in front of me and shined the flashlight. The room was bigger than I thought and had very high ceilings. On every wall was a bookcase stuffed with dusty books. I tried to pull one out but the bookcase started to wobble and fell to the floor with a deafening crash. I escaped being crushed by only a matter of seconds. Breathing heavily, I ran to the door but it was jammed shut.
I looked frantically for another exit only to find there were none. Tears rushed down my face as I pounded on the walls, I could feel the panic and anxiety rising in my chest. Was it my imagination, or were the walls moving closer together? I thought, my heart racing. My breaths turned choppy and shallow as I made my way around the room.
