The young man stood a long time on the pier watching the sun going down.Totally oblivious to his surroundings. Lost in his own thoughts, particularly of his old father, recuperating from an illness back at the house, and just as the last rays of the sun disappeared on the horizon, he sighed heavily and turned to walk back toward home.
As he got off the pier, he suddenly felt cold as a strong gust of wind blew past. He shivered and pulled the collar of his overcoat up around his neck. He regretted abandoning the thought of wearing a scarf when he left the house. He put his hands inside his coat pockets to keep them warm as he made his way up the winding road.
It was already dark as he climbed the few stone steps that led to the front porch. The porch light was off, there were no lights burning inside the house either. Thankfully the moon was out.
He wondered why his father hadn't gotten up to switch on at least one light. Maybe he had fallen asleep, while reading, as he so often did. He reached for the door knob, in his agitated state he didn’t realise that the front door was ajar! This puzzled him, had he forgotten to shut it when he ran out in a hurry a few hours ago?
He quietly crept inside, not making a sound, he didn’t want to disturb his father in case he was sleeping. He switched the light on in the hallway, it didn’t work, which puzzled him even further, has the fuse gone? He tried the lights above the staircase, they where out too. He decided to check the fuse box later, first he needed to check in on his father to make sure he was alright.
As he neared the staircase leading up to the top floor of the two story house, he was struck by a sudden foreboding thought, is there a prowler inside? As this thought was circling around in his head, he cursed himself for not locking the door behind him, when he rushed out.
He started to slowly make his way up the staircase, quietly, so as to avoid the creaky spots, thankful once again for the moonlight, and just as he reached the middle, he almost tripped on his jogging shoes that he had left there, that morning, he steadied himself, muttering under his breath.
As he reached the landing, he heard a loud thud from inside his father’s bedroom. His heart beat quickened as he neared the door. He opened it and went inside.
The first thing he could make out from the moonlight streaming in through the windows, was his father lying on the floor, face down, unconscious, beside the bed.
Behind him, he caught a movement, out of the corner of his eye. A gleam of some sort. As he turned to look, he didn't even have time to react as the gleam followed by a gloved hand came down on him like a flash and struck him in the chest!
THE END
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Author Notes: This was my first attempt at short story writing. I hope I have done a good job.
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Sri Lanka • 49 years old