—Short Story Sunday—

I apologize for being absent the last few days. Between the rain and the hot and the humid the bug situation here has been out of control. Just walking the dogs or going from the porch to the car results in literally a million itchy bites.

Ok….maybe not really a million but it sure does feel like it.

So I have been an itchy, swollen, cranky mess and in and out of consciousness thanks to multiple doses of antihistamines.

But I am back tonight for Short Story Sunday.

And this one IS short.

Prompt:

Write a ghost story that includes the following elements; someone closing a door and the word “precious.”

And do so in 100 words or less…..

Hurrying Home

Jack darted across the busy street. Having missed dinner, he was in a hurry to get home. Horns blared, tires screeched as he loped across Main without looking back. 

The children would fuss if he wasn’t home to tuck them in; lay with them until they fell asleep. 

“Jack where are you?” Maggie fretted at the front door. 

Precious seconds to spare, Jack crossed the threshold as Maggie closed the door, her skirt swirling in the sudden, cool breeze. 

On Main the driver of a Chevy cradled the lifeless dog he had hit. “I’m sorry Jack. I didn’t see you.”