The Rose Garden Disaster Stalking Jahari and Beatrice Party Time Morning Services Anger Moving Day Short Who's Pregnant? Moving Day Elephant Jahari and Beatrice revised Stalking Noon and Midnight Moving Day revised Vermont Country Store Mary's Move Sarah and Jinny Sarah and Jinny part II Sarah and Jinny part III Sarah and Jinny part IV Am I Invisible? What am I? My Happy Phone Emerald Janet The Raven The Garage Passion FancyCat GamePro The End of My Summer is Coming Did You Say Something? Emerald: A Short Story Fireflies Nana The Fair George and Margaret Sally's Schooling Bad News Nostalgia Magic Maker Little Demonic Microwave TV vs. Parenting oo. . .Scary Falling Down My Play 1 Bio of a Mage My Play 2 Jahari and Beatrice, the Play My Play 2, scene 2 Here I Sit I am the Best My Baby Kitty The Great Green Frog Jedi Untitled 1 Wanderers Spook Here I Sit (revised) I am the Best (revised) Today it Snowed The Great Green Frog (revised) The Weather I Remeber I Remember (Pantoum Revision)

Homework

I had been living on the same street as the Vermont Country Store for years. I always thought that the name was rather redundant. Yes we are in Vermont, and yes it is a country store. But friends of mine have worked there from time to time regardless of the silly name, and most of them worked there just before they moved out of town. One friend of mine seemed to be content to work there until he was old and grey. We all called him the "Vermont Country Store Lifer" (or The Vecsal for short). We figured he would eventually die happily sitting behind the counter.

I was 25 years old when I finally visited the quaint little shop.

When I walked in the front door, a happy little set of bells chimed out. From the back I could hear something that sounded like someone butchering meat. I didn't really think anything of it because there was a small deli counter right there next to the register, and The Vecsal always said he loved that part of the job, almost as much as he loved talking about the kids that went missing every once in a while.

The whole place was brightly lit. But there was a strange feel to it that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Everything had its place, and not a single item was in the wrong place. It was very orderly and very clean. It was very clean. There was no sense that anyone actually came in here. The magazines had not been rifled through, the candy was in impeccable order. . . everything was just too perfect.

And then She came out from the back. I had never before seen Her. That I found odd as there are only about 300 people in town, and I know most of them by name and the rest by sight. I remember that She was voluptuous, but Her hair is the only thing I remember vividly. It was long, pin straight raven black hair that hung to Her tiny waist. I do remember that She was wearing an apron. It was splattered with blood.

I am sure She asked me a question in a voice not unlike the bells over the door, but my attention was drawn to the apron. There, at just the bottom, was a smeared handprint. It was much too big to be Hers. It looked as though it would have been about the right size for my friend, The Vecsal.

Wasn't he supposed to be in the store today?

Looks like we got part of it right...

NOTE: This was an assignment for my CCV Creative Writing I online class with William Noble.