Sex, death and a snake in the grass: 19 linked short stories, fiction for the Internet. Read in narrative sequence using the left-hand menu or follow characters through the in-page links
8
Around the village where Laura lived lots of the land was owned by a widowed farmer, John Tierney. Laura's route back from the fields with her two collies often took her past John's house.
She knew John reasonably well, having worked with his horses when she was younger, and often used to stop for a chat. So she wasn't too surprised one morning just before work to see him waiting for her at his gate. Nor was it surprising that he had his shotgun with him. What was surprising was that, apart from his wellington boots, he was totally naked.
'Hello Laura,' said the old man. There was a unbearable pleading note to his voice.
'Er, hello John,' said Laura, hunting around desperately for something to fix her gaze on.
'Laura, please -'
'No, no, John. I'd better be going. Got to feed the dogs you see,' she said quickly, her face contorting into a grimace that she hoped would pass for a smile.
She hurried home, clutching at her collar, simply vibrating with anger and shame.
Soon afterwards the terrible news broke that John had died. Those in with old Dr Grass, who had found the body lying in the middle of the yard, on a routine visit, said that Tierney had died in the early hours a few days previously - a common time for heart attacks. He must have been disturbed by something first thing, must have jumped out of bed and gone to investigate, they said, because [here their voices dropped to a whisper] he'd been totally naked, apart from his wellington boots, and a shotgun was lying by the body.
For Laura, the next months were simply awful, and she would always have to live with the knowledge of what poor John's ghost had been trying to ask her.
