Don't Look Back, Agnes & In This House by Kathryn Meyer Griffith

Author:Kathryn Meyer Griffith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, ghosts nursing home murders, children going home again cops horror, supernatural calico cat Kathryn Meyer Griffith, eternal evil entity in woods, old married people love beyond death
Publisher: Kathryn Meyer Griffith
Published: 2015-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

In This House

A ghostly short story by Kathryn Meyer Griffith

“You never put the milk away, Althea,” Bernard told his wife, but there was a smile on his face as he said it. She’d become so scatterbrained lately, more so than usual, but he didn’t care. He loved her no matter what.

“Sorry, honey, I’ll try harder to remember next time.” His wife returned a shadow of the smile he’d given her and looked towards the kitchen window again, her attention somewhere else.

Oh, once she’d been gorgeous. Now her face was wrinkled, her once dazzling eyes dull, her body slow and bent, and her hands clumsy. The wavy flaxen hair she’d been so proud of was a short bob and more gray than blond.

Yet to Bernard, she’d always be that same slender girl of eighteen in a daffodil-colored dress with hair to her waist, emerald eyes and dangling earrings that accentuated her slender neck and shoulders. He’d first seen her that night, fifty years ago, at the Knotty Pine Dance Hall. She’d been sitting alone at a table, waiting for someone to ask her to dance. He’d wanted to bend over and kiss her the moment he met her but had to wait. After only a few words spoken between them he’d known she wouldn’t be a one-night; she wasn’t that kind of girl. She was the marrying kind. So a few weeks later, he married her.

For a moment, as he gazed at her, she was young and beautiful again.

The years had caught up with both of them. Bernard had trouble walking himself these days and his once tall, sturdy body that used to waltz Althea across the dance floor effortlessly needed a bowl full of pills every morning to keep it moving.

Oh, well. No one could stop time. Not even love.

He picked up the milk carton, shuffled over to the refrigerator, and put it next to the bottle of sweet pickles. It barely fit. Have to clean this fridge out pretty soon, he thought. It’s starting to look like there was an explosion inside it or something. What a mess. He shook his head. Sometimes things just seemed to be too much, like cleaning the house, doing the dishes, paying the bills, cutting the grass and going for the groceries. That’s what getting old was about. Everything became too much.

“They’re tearing down our place, Bernard,” his wife was saying sadly, her eyes intent on something beyond the window’s glass.

“What?”

“The Knotty Pine.” She pointed a skinny finger towards the window. “They’re putting a wrecking ball to it. After that’s gone we’ll be the only ones left in the whole neighborhood.”

“Are you sure, honey?” Bernard got up again and went to the window. “You know your eyesight ain’t what it used to be.”

“Well, it’s good enough to see a whole building gone, I’ll tell you that.”

He chuckled as he peered out at the scenery behind their house. The Knotty Pine Dance Hall was two streets over across a few rolling hills but could clearly be seen.

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