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Must be Something in The Air
As rumors go, there were many floating around about you know who. Some were true, others were not, and other still were slight variants of the reality of what truly happened.
She approached me with swollen eyes and tears rolling down her cheek. Her face red and nose running, it seems without end.
She kept sniffling, trying to keep the snot from reaching her lip as she wiped with the cuff of her sleeve.
I asked her if she was ok. She looks at me and with snotty cuff, slaps me on my cheek.
"Do I look ok you idiot!!"
Now, I'm all worried that with her slapping me, I may have contracted the covid virus.
My heart started pounding, sweat started to bead up on my forehead, and so I asked again, only in a different way.
"Are you sick or did someone hurt you?"
Silence........
"Hey ... Are you gonna answer me." I asked
Silence again ...
Then, something began to reach my senses , an aroma all too familiar...
"Is there anything I can do to help you." I asked, as my anxiety calmed a bit.
I'm met with silence again, only this time with an evil and angry person looking at me.
I start thinking to myself:
"What the hell is going on? Did I do something wrong?"
Then, I'm met with the type of grin that could shake the strongest man's knees, as she looks down at the zipper of my pants.
"What the hell is she thinking now?"
"Are you ok?" I asked again.
Big mistake! She had already called me an idiot once for asking the same question.
She then grabs an ink pen, places it on my jugular vein, with other hand in position to strike it through.
My hands fly upward, but filled with a confused sense of fear, not understanding why she was so distraught, I dropped them to my side and burst out crying.
"What did I do to you?"
Spoken in fearful tone, and my voice shaking.
Then, she looks at me with the most serious look I had ever seen her express, and she says to me:
"Don't ever ask me if I farted again."
Then, I remembered our last phone conversation and asking a friend at the house if he had just let one.
Story Tellers From Hell chronicles
© J.P Belt
She approached me with swollen eyes and tears rolling down her cheek. Her face red and nose running, it seems without end.
She kept sniffling, trying to keep the snot from reaching her lip as she wiped with the cuff of her sleeve.
I asked her if she was ok. She looks at me and with snotty cuff, slaps me on my cheek.
"Do I look ok you idiot!!"
Now, I'm all worried that with her slapping me, I may have contracted the covid virus.
My heart started pounding, sweat started to bead up on my forehead, and so I asked again, only in a different way.
"Are you sick or did someone hurt you?"
Silence........
"Hey ... Are you gonna answer me." I asked
Silence again ...
Then, something began to reach my senses , an aroma all too familiar...
"Is there anything I can do to help you." I asked, as my anxiety calmed a bit.
I'm met with silence again, only this time with an evil and angry person looking at me.
I start thinking to myself:
"What the hell is going on? Did I do something wrong?"
Then, I'm met with the type of grin that could shake the strongest man's knees, as she looks down at the zipper of my pants.
"What the hell is she thinking now?"
"Are you ok?" I asked again.
Big mistake! She had already called me an idiot once for asking the same question.
She then grabs an ink pen, places it on my jugular vein, with other hand in position to strike it through.
My hands fly upward, but filled with a confused sense of fear, not understanding why she was so distraught, I dropped them to my side and burst out crying.
"What did I do to you?"
Spoken in fearful tone, and my voice shaking.
Then, she looks at me with the most serious look I had ever seen her express, and she says to me:
"Don't ever ask me if I farted again."
Then, I remembered our last phone conversation and asking a friend at the house if he had just let one.
Story Tellers From Hell chronicles
© J.P Belt
