*CONTEXT*
I'm having a crack at my first writing competition next week, and I thought I'd do some practice. 24 hours to write a 250 word short story using a given genre, action and word. I've used one of the 2020 challenges below.
Genre: Ghost story
Action: Shovelling snow
Word: Meet
Let's see how we go! As always, would love to hear your thoughts.
(NB: Ok this ended up being a little more hectic than I thought it was going to be. If reading this story brings up any feelings for ya, please reach out to someone you trust or call 1737)
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A bitter winter plunged the already sleepy village into full blown hibernation.
The motley collection of stores that lined Main Street had struggled since the new highway bypassed the community.
Mounds of fresh snow at storefronts did nothing to conceal the faded paint that held their walls together, nor the human desperation that kept their doors open.
The Tourist, a rarity in these times, wandered along the street. He slowed at every window to catch a glimpse of the wares inside. The chill had forced even the hardiest of shopkeepers into the back, huddled in front of sputtering heaters. The Tourist didn't feel a thing. He'd come from a colder place.
A few metres ahead, the Man shoveled snow away from his store's door.
"Thought all the tourists were dead" he smiled, looking up from his shovel "What are you after?"
"Just hoping to meet one of the locals" the Tourist replied, emotionlessly.
The Tourist peered in through the window, struggling to see past his own reflection. The unlit store took shape out of the gloom. The shelves were near bare and a distinctive pink foreclosure notice lay discarded on the floor. A dark, heavy figure swung gently from the back rafters.
"One more sale and I might keep the bank away another day" the Man chuckled.
The Tourist paused. He realised that there was only one reflection in the glass.
He looked to the Man, who smiled broadly, revealing the ligature marks around his neck.
"Won't you come in?"
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