An Angelic Experience.

By P.S. Gifford

“So Angel,” Mr. Farnaby questioned as he sucked on his chocolate milkshake, and munched eagerly on his veggie burger. Rex, his dog, was lying at his heels as always, his ears flopped back and was using his deep brown eyes to beg for scraps. This plan was often successful and today appeared as if it was not going to be an exception.

“Will you share with me what happened on that ominous Wednesday night you have alluded to?”

“Well I was home alone on that fateful evening,” she said then sipped her coke as if in even the retelling of the tale made her mouth dry.

She paused momentarily then continued her voice was hushed.

“I was home alone watching television. I suppose it must have been about nine when it all began. The power went out…Unexpectedly. But it was odd as there was no storm or any likely cause that I could think of, it simply went out…”

Mr. Farnaby nodded and looked straight into her Hazel eyes.

“You don’t have to continue if you want,” he said softly “I know it still gives you the heebie Jeebies”

Angel smiled and then she adjusted her glasses on her nose.

“No, no it is good for me to talk about it. In fact my therapist has advised me to.”
She took another sip of her coke and continued her tale.

“I remember my sheer panic as I went in hunt for candles. I have always held an unreasonable morbid fear of the dark…Or more truthfully the horrors that the dark concealed. It was after I had gotten the first candle lit I first glanced movement.”
Steve nodded again obviously entranced by the young girl’s tale.

“I could barely make it out hiding within the shadows …Something appeared to be slithering along. I desperately lit more candles and I can vividly recall my shaking hands fumbling with the matches…”

Her hands were shaking now as she continued her tale.

“I did not know what to do and I kept thinking what would Mr. Gifford do?
I knew that he would have some devious twist in defeating the beast-A weapon-I needed a weapon.” Her speech was starting to quicken…

Rex, obviously sensing his masters increase tension, whined gently and licked Mr. Farnaby’s hand as if in search of reassurance his beloved master was okay.

“I looked around the hallway. The candles light seemed to dance ominously upon the walls. I saw my mothers knitting bag and I carefully darted towards it…All too weary that I was not alone.”

She paused and took yet another gulp of her coke her eyes were starting to tear.

“I grabbed my mom’s stainless knitting needle just in time. As I turned back into the hallway I saw it darting towards me… all seven feet of him. His mouth gaping to reveal the longest fangs I have ever seen and I could not believe the speed it was travelling reacted on sheer instinct. I still don’t know how it exactly happened.”
Steve stared at her as a single tear was gradually slipping down her freckled cheek.

Steve smiled as he joked.

“That explains the Snakeskin boots and matching bag!”

Angel got up and daintily moved her petite feet in a mocking country and western dance move.

“Yes, they are a constant reminder that I am larger than my fears and that even the things I am most frightened of can be beaten.”

They got up and walked out of the patio of the restaurant with Rex eagerly at their heels.

Mr. Farnaby got a glint in his eye as he spoke, “heck, it almost does sounds like one of Paul Gifford’s stories!”

As they amble into the parking lot they are both laughing.

The end.

This was written by me about a year ago and Mr. Farnaby and Angel are indeed actual people, and Rex is his beloved German Sheperd dog…Angel once made the mistake of telling me here two biggest fears were snakes and the dark…Naturally I could not resist.


P.S. Gifford

P.S. Gifford is a published horror author of great talent. He started submitting stories around 2005. His short stories are by far some of the best and most entertaining that I have read. Around that time he was invited to write columns which are titled "Paperback Writer."

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