Ghosts from the Mist of Time by R. Chetwynd-Hayes

Author:R. Chetwynd-Hayes [Chetwynd-Hayes, R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Horror, Short Stories
ISBN: 9780718305628
Amazon: 0718305620
Publisher: William Kimber, Limited
Published: 1985-10-15T07:00:00+00:00

THE IMMORTAL S’s

IMMORTAL

KAMTELLAR

BROUGHT TO YOU IN

GLORIOUS

FLESH AND BLOOD COLOUR

‘There was nothing like that in Kamtellar,’2 Stephen protested.

‘Movita was about to be sacrificed on Silver Night. Eh! What’s all this about Silver Night? Don’t tell me you’re sacrificing virgins?’

For a while it seemed as if neither parent was going to answer, until Poppa said: ‘Not virgins. Blasphemers.’

‘Them that the mickey take,’ Momma added, ‘pretends they have the glorious writings writ. It is they who on the cold breath neck feel.’

Stephen did not ask any more questions, but followed his physical parents into the tower block, held his breath in the lift, then breathed a sigh of relief when he was back in the family flat.

‘I’m safe here,’ he said.

The parents whispered together and Momma wiped her eyes on several occasions, then hurried from the room. Poppa addressed his wayward son.

‘To a run make for it, my advice would be, if you any sense had. But they most likely would you pick-up before reach you end of street. There no doubt be elders soon be here, for everyone blasphemy hear. A fine would me ruin. Sacrifice on Silver Night!’ He shrugged. ‘Cheaper. But the disgrace!’

‘I know I’ve been stupid,’ Stephen confessed. ‘But when one hears one’s own poor little stories interpreted in a way . . .’

Mr Morley interrupted by slapping his thigh. ‘That it maybe! Bonkers you have gone! How you can be blamed for round the bend going? Too much study and h’education. To elders talk like that and my troubles finished are.’

‘But what about mine?’ Stephen enquired.

‘You in nice quiet house place, where in garden dig when fine weather is. Now I leave you. A copy of the Works Great is table on. Read. Maybe more bonkers go and make asylum more certain.’

When the door had been closed Stephen first pondered on the fact that the twenty-second century appeared to be rather short on parental affection, then got up and sauntered to the table where indeed a mighty, leatherbound tome lay, the letters IS embossed in gold on the front cover. It took some lifting, but eventually Stephen got it over to a cushion chair, where he laid it on his lap and turned back the front cover.

There are two events that are guaranteed to rejoice an author’s heart. One: Seeing his work well laid out and printed on good quality paper. Two: Reading flattering remarks about himself and his books.

In the Immortal Works Stephen found both.

On looking down the contents page he found that not only was all his published work included, but that which had not found a home during his lifetime as well. Even some of his school essays. He turned to the introduction and nestled down in the cushion chair to read.

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