Title:The Strange Horizon Glimpses into
the Mind of a Dreamer
Print 978-1548336950
Author: G. L. Didaleusky
Genre: Short Stories (mystery, suspense, contemporary,
horror, science fiction and fantasy)
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 1
TAGLINE
A Collage of Short Stories emerged from my imagination--a
few actual experiences--and some possibly conjured from a previous life, if you
believe in reincarnation and Edgar Casey.
BLURB
The Strange Horizon ranges from stories less than a hundred
words to over four thousand words. There isn’t any profanity, gore or sexual
innuendo in any of the short stories. The genre varies from mystery, suspense,
contemporary, horror, science fiction and fantasy. You may smile, chuckle,
express a tear or two, feel a sudden chill or feel a warmth at the end of the
story. Emotions are in the mind of the reader and the heart cuddles or rejects
those emotions.
EXCERPT
Guiding Spirit
Adam leaned forward and slid his shovel between the sidewalk
and six inches of snow. His peripheral vision saw someone walking toward him.
He straightened up and gazed at an elderly man wearing a parka. A cold northern
wind gently blew at the man’s white hair and long white beard. Adam threw the
shoveled snow next to him and said, “How are you?”
“Just fine, thank you.”
“I’m Adam Morris.”
“Please to meet you. I’m Ben Stanton.”
“Didn’t you and your wife move into the old Kramer house
last month.”
“Yes. We did.”
“Is everything all right there? It sat vacant for a few
years.”
“It’s just fine. We’re very comfortable.”
“I heard you’re going to play Santa Claus at the family
shelter on Christmas Eve,” Adam stated.
“Yes. I’m looking forward to it”
“You sure do fit the part. Don’t need an artificial beard.”
“No. I don’t,” Ben said, pulling at his beard.
“I understand you retired a few years ago.”
“That’s right.”
“What kind of work did you do?”
“Public relations for a large global company.”
“Did your wife retire too?”
“You ask a lot of questions. You must be a newspaper
reporter.”
“Yes. I am. How did you know that?”
“You’re standing in front of the Northern Star Newspaper
office.”
Adam rolled his eyes, grinned. “Never was good as an
undercover reporter.”
Ben placed his hands on his large protruding abdomen and
chuckled.
“You laugh from your belly just—”
“I know,” interrupted Ben. “Just like Santa on TV or in the
movies.”
“Didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t. It doesn’t bother me at all. Matter of fact, I
take it as a compliment.”
Two teen-aged boys approached them. “Hey old man, where’s
your reindeers?’ asked one of the boys. The other boy snickered.
“Get out of here you juvenile delinquents.” Adam scowled at
them.
The boys kicked snow on the shoveled sidewalk in defiance
and took off running.
“You little brats.”
“They mean no harm,” interjected Ben. “They got good hearts.
Their attitudes just need some guidance.”
“Being in public relations, I would think you’d have
negative judgments of people.”
“No. I try to see positive attributes in people. It’s the
way I am. Too old to change now.”
~ * ~
About a week before Christmas, the Santa at the mall became
sick. Adam heard about it when the manager of the mall came into the newspaper
office to place an ad in the paper. He contacted Ben, who accepted the
position.
Ben sat in a large, adorned chair. A woman in her late
twenties, holding the hand of a girl around six-years-old, walked up the
red-carpeted entranceway and stopped a couple feet away from him.
“Hi, Santa,” said the little girl.
“Well, Jasmine, how are you today?”
“How did you know her name?” asked the woman, frowning.
“Santa knows all the boys and girls of the world. Although,
I heard you call her name a few minutes ago when you walked behind me.”
“So, Jasmine. What do you want for Christmas?”
“A daddy. Mine died when I was a baby.”
“I’m not sure if Santa can promise you that.” Ben glanced at
the mother. A tear ran down her cheek.
Jasmine’s face saddened, as her shoulders slumped. “That’s
okay, Santa Claus. I still love you.”
“Bless your heart. What else can Santa bring you Christmas
morning?”
“My own bed.”
“Do you share your bed with someone else?”
“Oh. No Santa. The shelter owns my bed.”
The mother leaned forward. “We’re staying at the family
shelter in town. It’s just temporary until I earn enough money for a place of
our own.”
“I hope things work out for you and your daughter. Have a
Merry Christmas. And God bless you.” Ben handed Jasmine a candy cane.
~ * ~
On Christmas day, Adam sat at his dining room table
surrounded by family members.
“I heard that Ben and his wife suddenly left town two days
ago,” Carl remarked, Adam’s brother. “No one seems to know where they went.”
Adam frowned. “That’s strange. Ben was looking forward to
playing Santa Claus at the family shelter.”
Maybe they wanted to spend Christmas with relatives in
another town or state.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why’s that?” asked Carl.
“Ben and his wife were ‘only children’ and didn’t have any
relatives. At least that’s what he told me a while back.”
~ * ~
“Jasmine, get over here.”
“Karen. She’s okay,” said a young man in his late twenties,
sitting next to her on a bench in the mall. Across from them, they were
dismantling the Santa Claus stage.
“I still can’t believe how we happened to meet after not
seeing each other since high school.”
“Me either. The elderly man that was playing Santa here at
the mall came into my store a few days before Christmas. He asked me if I would
go to the family shelter on Christmas Eve dressed up like Santa. I couldn’t
believe it when I saw you there.”
Email address: gosky1@outlook.com
Website URL: www.gregdidaleusky.com
Thank you for hosting.
ReplyDelete