This is the other short story that will be in the LOVE Anthology available January 1, 2006 from www.whiskeycreekpress.com
“Help me,” the voice whispered.
Brendan Wardlow paused in his writing to look up. The park was nearly empty. The children had long since gone home. Dusk was approaching. He shook his head and wrote it off to his fertile imagination. His pen scratched the across the paper at a rapid rate.
His head snapped up. The voice. Soft. Whisper thin. He stood up and walked a few steps.
Stronger this time and with a definite direction. Brendan tucked his notebook under his arm and strode towards the bushes at the south end of the park. He walked around the backside of the shrub and stopped cold.
She was a vision. Ethereal. She lay, lifeless, on the hard dirt. Her cerulean, gossamer gown was torn and filthy. Her complexion was waxen. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing shallow.
Brendan bent down to her and lightly stroked her cheek. Her eyes flickered open and regarded him solemnly. His head snapped back. My God! Who was she? How did she get here? He was afraid to move her. She might be seriously hurt.
“Can you hear me?” he asked quietly.
Her eyes, the same color as her gown, watched his face. She nodded slightly.
“Did you ask for my help?” Again, a slight nod.
Brendan stood up and whipped out his cell phone. He was going to call an ambulance first. Then he would contact her next of kin. Her silvery voice stopped him.
“I do not need a hospital, Brendan Wardlow.”
The phone dropped from his fingers.
He bent down low and studied her. “How do you know who I am?”
“I am sent for you.”
copyright 2005 Crystal Inman
1 year ago