ADSactly CrowdStory

adsactly (80)in #writing • 9 years ago (edited)

We start a story and you continue in the comments where the last person left off. I provide a setting, characters and the start of a plot. Together we create a story that would ordinarily be unimaginable.

NUMBER your posts to keep these more organize. Be advised some stories contain coarse language.

What's The Time

DANT (76) elderly, clearly feeble, sits in a worn armchair, comfortable, relaxed. The din of his house is near silence except for the grandfather clock that ticks mechanically. It echoes through the halls of his empty home.
His expression shifts, perplexed, a sudden feeling of confusion overwhelms him as he tightly grasps the arms of the chair. TICK...TICK...TICK. His focus on the clock as the minute hand approaches twelve.

The bells of the grandfather clock sound as a mouse-quiet voice calls "DANT."
The voice haunts him, "DANT, what time is it? Is it safe now? DANT?"

He closes his eyes as if he has a headache, or he is trying to forget. TICK...TICK...TICK.

A rush of cold air moves over him, he shivers before anger takes hold and he stands, just as his daughter, JESS (40's) opens the front door and enters the home.

She watches her father, concerned shocked as he shouts out, "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"

Jess drops the grocery bag, never seeing her father in this state distresses her, but she hears it too, the small voice that haunts, "I want to know, what's the time? Is it safe?"

A whirlwind of racket breaks the silence in Dant's home as papers begin flying everywhere, picture frames rattle on the walls... A vase crashes to the floor, back to silence.

Tick...TICK...TICK

"Dad?" jess calls, terrified, "Safe from what?"

Authored by: @satchmo

#creative #adsactly #story #steemit

9 years ago in #writing by adsactly (80)

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migzillion (50) 9 years ago (edited)

Dant sits back down, his expression dull, eyes faraway.

"Dad?" Jess presses.

"Oh! Hey there Sweety, you stop by to see your old man?" Dant responds, a glee in his words.

Jess can't help but be perplexed by her father's sudden shift. She stands staring horrified at the cheerful old-timer in amidst the ruin of his outburst. She'd heard the noise complaints from neighbours, always thought it was just her Dad's way of filtering out the war - but this, this was much worse than a flashback - something was happening here, and she knew it was just the beginning.

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