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Halloween '09. Runner-Up in Through the Lens Challenge.
When you look at this picture, you see a little girl with pink makeup smeared all over her face, but to me, I behold a testament to a miracle. I glimpse a fighter who never backs down. I also recognize the clown who is my youngest child. In this photo, she is twenty-eight months old and celebrating her first time trick or treating.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Photography
Fated Showdown
I confidently strode across the darkened hall, leaving Marsha where she had fallen. Positive in who I would find on the other side of the closed door. Feeling the astral pull of my eternal beloved, I softly opened the door and entered the bedroom. The low light from the window was all I needed to see that the bed was empty, as was the room. Hurrying across the room I threw the closet door open, checking if my fated one was inside, but she was not there. Nor was she under the bed.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Horror
Fated Intrusion. Content Warning.
It’s well after one am, and the house is still. Neither Marsha nor my eternal one has moved around for hours. The neighborhood appears completely settled for the night, so very stealthily I leave my hiding spot in the bushes, and furtively make my way toward the rear of the house, where the sliding doors are located. Avoiding the flowerbeds and patio furniture, I’m as graceful as when I took ballet with Marsha as a child. I pry the glass door open, and hurriedly disarm the alarm system, having helped Alex install it earlier this year, I knew the code.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Horror
Fated Memories
I’d parked my Ninja in an alley off Cloverton Road and walked the three blocks over to Milton Avenue, keeping to the shadows as much as I could, hoping no one saw me and recognized me. I was pleasantly surprised when I arrived and saw my fated destiny’s rental car parked outside Marsha Cunningham’s house’s separate garage. Knowing the Fates were still working on my side made me feel bolder and more courageous. I was confident that tonight would be the night.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Horror
Fated Urgency
I can sense our precious time is running out. The hour of our predestined meeting is upon us, and if I’m not careful, I will miss this golden opportunity that fate has delivered to me. Not even in our first incarnation, was such a moment available to me. Thrice, my destiny has been reincarnated and thrice I will hold her body in its dying throbs during this blessed lifetime. This chance cannot slip through my hands.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Horror
Fated Target
For two days, I have followed my destiny without discovering much more than the name she goes by in this incarnation, Melody Duskin, and that she’s staying at Marsha Cunningham’s Tudor-style house on Milton Avenue. I do not know how long she will be here. Nor am I aware of why she is here. All I am sure of is that the Fates have delivered me another chance to prove myself in this reincarnation.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Horror
Fated Watcher
Sitting in a corner booth at Thomasville’s only diner, eating my usual evening dinner of liver and onions while drinking a steaming cup of black coffee, I listen to the conversations around me, trying to catch word about my fated muse, who claimed to be Teri Meekman in this reincarnation. Not far from me, having his customary nightly pecan pie is Police Chief Walters. District Attorney Ricker entered the diner and headed toward Walters’ table, signaling to Susan he wanted a sweet tea. My fortune is ever golden, as my Aunt Meredith always told me, and here is further proof of it. Soon, I will be able to hear more inside details than anyone in town will know, other than law enforcement. Inside, I quiver from the excitement and continue eating as if nothing is happening.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Horror
Ill-Fated
Since her arrival by bus, I’ve followed her through Thomasville for two weeks, my fated one. Trying to learn her secrets before our preordained meeting, I listen as she walks the town nosing, questioning the townsfolk. I watch as she eats in the diner and know when she brushes her mahogany brown hair each night. The library seems to be her favorite place to visit, spending hours a day on the microfilm machine. Claiming her name to be Teri Meekman, she signs all her credit card slips, but I know her true identity in any incarnation she hides behind.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Horror
Fated Stalker
I sit on a lone bench in Thomasville Municipal Park, reminiscing about finally meeting gentle Freda as we were destined to. How soft her flesh had been as I’d held her in my arms and slid my blade into her beating heart. The way she had smelt of gardenia as I’d laid my head upon hers, and listened to her take her last breath. Softly, she had whispered no as she had weakly tried to pull away from my hard embrace. She hardly fought me, recognizing the futility of fighting a predetermined act. Carefully, I laid her out with the care of a mortician, leaving her cold body upon the altar of the church she had decided to hide in. I shivered as I remembered the sweet taste of her blood as I licked it from my knife, before putting it back up.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Horror
Fated
Everyone in the town of Thomasville knew Freda was as timid as a dormouse, but nobody could understand why. People just said she was high-strung as an infant and grew more overstrung the older she got. Everything made her jumpy as hell and she was always fidgeting with her mahogany brown hair as she looked over her slumped shoulders. She was just a big bundle of raw nerves, ready to take instant flight. She took everything as a dark, evil omen and would make the Sign of the Cross for no reason whatsoever.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Horror
