Special Day


David Grainger opened his eyes, and automatically glanced at his wristwatch, all at once a complete panic overwhelms him, as he remembered what a special day it was. As the rain beat against the shutters, he knew that he had no choice but to face his darkest fears. Today was going to be a living nightmare, and his options were now very limited. Crawling out of the bed he slowly walked over to the shower, and as his still half asleep basset hound, Wilfred, watched on lazily, he began to gradually cleanse himself. He was hoping that the invigorating scent of the soap and the brutally cold water would rid his pounding hang over and kick start his throbbing brain into gear.

Finally he exited the shower stall, and solemnly dried himself off. ‘If only I hadn’t gone out drinking with the lads last night, I could have done something,’ he thought. ‘What the hell am I going to do…what the hell am I going to do’ He repeated shaking his head in disgust with himself. He then studied his grim reflection in the steamed up mirror, and two agonized blood shot eyes stared back at him in total disgust. Then he got an idea ‘I have just one chance, if only I can get away with it…’He pulled on an old pair of faded blue jeans, and pulled a white tee shirt over his head. Finally, Wilfred stirred from his sleeping place and staggered over to say good morning with a usual sloppy lick to the back of his hand. Normally David would reach down and reciprocate with a good hearty scratch. But not this morning, this morning he had to deal with the consequences of his foolish actions, and he was in no frame of mind to deal with Wilfred. This morning he understood he was going to have to have a confrontation, and it surely wasn’t going to be pretty…

Finally he slipped on a pair of loafers, and a slightly put out Wilfred returned to his resting place, obviously giving up on trying getting David’s attention and deciding more sleep was in order. David Sighed as he opened the bedroom door and made his way down the hardwood floors. He paused for a moment and then continued on down the staircase. However as he placed his full weight on the third step, it creaked and groaned ominously and David froze on the spot; silently praying that he had not been heard. After a few agonizing moments he once again continued, even slower and cautious than before.

Soon he eyed his car keys lying tantalizingly upon the table next to the front door, with satisfaction he grinned as just for a moment he imagined he was going actually to make it.

But then he here’s a voice; a horrible, shrill and piercing voice. He understood completely that running would be a futile exercise, he would never make it and that a confrontation was indeed inevitable…He quickly turned and saw her dressed in her usual long pink robe, her head full of curlers, and half a lit cigarette balanced precariously between her scowling lips.

“Where my anniversary present darling?” she asked with obvious sarcasm. Then she moved stealthily towards him brandishing a rather large rolling pin. “Are you racing off to the convenience store again just like you did last year to buy a cheap box of stale nasty chocolates?”

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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