Today’s prompt: Today, write a post with roots in a real-world conversation. Today’s twist: include foreshadowing.
Last night I dreamt I returned to…. Part 2.
I had to go back. I needed to go inside. I had to speak to him again. Just one more time. I knew he was still there. He told me he would never leave…
‘Good morning. My name is Stella Naiman, I lived in this house when I was a child and I’d like to go inside, just once.’
‘Good morning. I am Stella Naiman, I used to live here many years ago. May I come in?’
‘Good morning. I know this sounds strange, but many years ago, I lived in this house. It has many memories for me. Would you be so kind as to let me in for a few minutes?’
‘Good morning. I need to speak to someone inside your house, someone who has been living with you all these years, although you may never have seen him. May I come in?’
‘Good morning. When I lived in this house there was a friendly ghost. I wonder if he is still here, you see I need his help. May I come in and find him?’
‘Good morning. If you don’t let me in I’ll break in. I need to go inside and see if someone I once knew is still here. I need to tell him he was right and I need his help once more, you see he said he would always be here to help me. Please let me in.’
‘Good morning. My name is Stella Naiman. You can help me. Please let me come in and I will explain everything.’
My finger pushed the faded button. The familiar buzz sent a jolt along my arm to my shocked ear. Why hadn’t they changed the shrill-sounding worn doorbell?
Good morning, my name is Sandra Norton. I work for the Highwood Observer.” I showed her a card with my picture and the name of the newspaper I had printed out and laminated. ‘I am preparing a special feature on living in Highwood Hill which will also appear in national newspapers. I have been interviewing various residents in the area, and I was wondering if you would mind answering a few questions.’
She took the card scrutinizing the contents. Then she looked at my face, making sure it was the same as the one on the card.
‘I took that picture last year. My hair was shorter then.’ I reassured her. ‘Glasses off looks more like me!’ I added with a friendly tone pulling my glasses down towards my chest, away from my eyes.
She pursed her lips. ‘You can’t be too careful nowadays, can you?’
‘Well, I’d like people who read the article to think about moving to Highwood. It actually has one of the lowest crime rates in the country. House prices are sure to go up…’ I curled my lips slyly. She didn’t look very well off.
‘Sure, please come in.’
Have a look at some of the other entries.