Piece taken from the short story ''the creature over the hill'', from my published book,
''Olympus Whispers'' by I-write/Pigi Publications
Evening. Below a tall and rocky hill the forest spreads out. A
tern flits lazily from tree to tree as if unable to decide
where to sleep. Surely this forest is not the place. Not even
for a tern. It lets out one last ghoulish croak, spreads its
wings and flies away. When the noise of its flapping is
completely gone, there is nothing left in the air but the
rustling of leaves and the calls of the cicadas. The stars
shine brightly but there is no moon, swallowed up by a great
dark cloud. And suddenly, a huge mass falls from the sky. A
man. He nails himself to a branch and with his weight breaks
it. He too lets out a last scream like the tern, before he is
pinned to the ground and his soul flies away. Now there is
really no sound. And the trees, and the cicadas stand silent
as they understand, that yet another prophecy, has come true.
The haunt by the cliff. So read the sign in front of the stone
inn that had stood proudly for many years beside the cliff. A
gazebo for the adventurous, the flyer said. In reality it was
a place for drunks driven away by their wives or illegal
couples from the neighbouring villages. Once upon a time it
might have known its golden days. Now its beams were rotting.
Maria sat by her window and looked anxiously out. She held a
candle to light her room. The night had engulfed the inn and
she was almost the only source of light. She worked there with
her grandfather Peter. Her parents had died when she was young
and she grew up with her grandparents. She helped them with
the inn. Until her grandmother died a few years ago and she
was left alone with her grandfather. He was a good man. A bit
of a boor, but with a heart of gold. But the death of his wife
had affected him. Day by day, he seemed to inhabit another
world, not that of humans for sure. He was often caught by
Maria talking to his wife as if she had never left. Other
times he was himself. As if nothing had happened. The doctors
told Maria it was dementia. He was an old man. The doctor had
told her. And he'd been through a lot. But his condition was
getting worse.
Two days before, Maria had woken up from a nightmare. She got
up in a sweat, not remembering what she had seen, but the mere
thought of the dream made her shiver. In a moment of childlike
flashes she went to her grandfather's room to calm her down.
But unfortunately he was not there. She ran down the wooden
steps, grabbed a lantern, and almost barefoot she burst out
into the darkness calling out to him. After half an hour, she
found him, sitting on his knees on a fine rock, inches from
the edge of the cliff. He was staring at the dark sky and