For this week’s Song Lyric Sunday prompt of “Sleep” from Helen Vahdati, I offer the often forgotten melody from the great Stephen Foster. Published posthumously in 1864, it has been recorded, re-recorded, re-written with many liberties but always remains best sung by Bing Crosby (IMHO). Usually thought of as a lullaby, to me it is more of a lament for a lost loved one, particularly the second verse which is seldom performed.
Read the beginning of the story, part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4.
MONSTER UNDER MY BED
I told him to make himself comfortable while gesturing to the sofa as I continued to the kitchen for the brew. I brought back the good coffee service with two heavy pottery mugs and a plate of small goodies. Perhaps I should have pulled something more substantial out of the pantry, unsure what he’d be able to pick up with those claws. But food was scarce and nothing went to waste so tiny vegetable bits and crackers it was.
I nearly lost the tray when I saw Grimald on the sofa. It looked like he was trying to stuff himself behind the couch cushions. I stiffled a guffaw and placed the tray on the table then seated myself in the chair. Following my example, he righted himself and sat, somewhat stiffly. I took my drink, he took his drink. I got the impression he was unaware of social niceties and happy to mimic my movements.Continue reading “MONSTER UNDER MY BED PART 5”→
Read the first two parts of the story here and here
MONSTER UNDER MY BED
I had picked up the post on my way inside. Most of it was for Noemei, my roomie and best friend. Our cottage had a small upstairs unit with bed, bath and living space. Downstairs which was my area had the same but included the kitchen and dining areas which we shared. The payments were a bit much for a single person but for the two of us it was manageable. I came across the blue envelope with my name on it that held the rents request. Since I was the one who had found the cottage, it fell to me to handle the payment of the monthly rents. I didn’t really mind, the land manager was a decent enough fellow, if somewhat odd looking. His mutation had rendered him what we refer to as a “monster.” A huge man with two horns atop his head, bluish gray fur covering his arms where they stuck out of his rolled up sleeves and a good portion of his face. Frightful looking, he’s basically a decent kind of guy. Continue reading “MONSTER UNDER MY BED part 3”→
The next morning, I headed off to my job at the “Wicked Brew,” a coffee house where I add magic enchantments to coffee drinks. You can walk in and order a “triple latte, no whip, extra shot of luck charm” or any other magical charm or potion from the menu. I’m a fair to middlin’ charm and potion master and I love my job there. The pay is lousy but the atmosphere is wonderful and I love Kyna, the owner, and all of the other barristas, human and witch alike. This job is about the only good thing to have come from my move to the big city.Continue reading “Monster Under My Bed Part 2”→