Graham suddenly cried out shaking his head from side to side.
is the matter darling?" Mildred answered in her most patient
and understanding tone. Having being married to him for many years
she knew all to well he was prone to tantrums.
still haven't finished this story, and I simply must do it. I know
this is the one that is going to sell, and finally the world will
realize just how awfully talented I am! I feel like I have been
working on this bloody project for years." Graham replied with
frustration evident in his voice.
am sure you will come up with something perfect and terrifying darling
always do," Mildred said in her softest tone.
looked up at his wife, who always managed to both encourage and
inspire him, and then suddenly resumed his relentless tap tap tapping
upon his keyboard.
Rogers always liked graveyards. In particular he enjoy them in the
middle of the night, he felt that it was far more exciting admiring
them by moon light. So here he was in the very heart of the glorious
Yorkshire dales at just before midnight standing fascinated next
to a tomb. It was quite an ordinary tomb to the casual observer;
simply constructed out of modest white local stone
Yet he knew
oh so well that there was a wonderful and disturbing dark secret
took out his Frommers ghost hunters travel guide and re-read the
account that had made him drive up from Oxford to investigate.
Chance always wanted to be a writer
In fact his desire was
so much that when he inherited his rather substantial family estate
the money was quickly spent in an attempt to realize his illusive
dream. He self published four novels printing off thousands and
thousands of copies, sure that they will sell and that he would
be heralded as one of the greatest writers of all time. Yet poor
Graham missed one crucial element required to be make this dream
a reality; talent. His books were scorned and ridiculed by the critics
and then finally simply ignored. Barely a single copy ever sold.
He did however have one devoted fan; a certain Mildred Roberts.
Mildred was a humble farmers daughter and not only did she love
Graham almost at first sight she also believed him to be a brilliant
writer. They were quickly married and lived a modest existence together
in a small Yorkshire home. Rumor has it that one fateful day Graham
began writing a new story for his upcoming self published book and
he desperately wanted to woo the critics with this one, which he
considered his finest hour... He spent six days and nights without
a moment sleep attempting to write and rewrite each clumsy sentence.
Each attempt he made became increasingly worse .Finally Graham went
completely out of his mind. They say that he began to scream feverishly
from his writing desk and ripped large chunks of his hair out. As
his beloved Mildred came rushing in to see what the commotion was
he had reached a wild state of rage and madness and as she tried
to restrain and calm him he fought her away. Moments later he slowly
began to regain his sense of reasoning and he saw to his complete
and total horror his true love, and only fan, lay silent and motionless
upon the faded carpet. Her head positioned against the stone mantel
and the delicate curls of her flaxen hair were covered by her own
apparently was so distraught by the comprehension of his gruesome
actions that he took his letter opener, the one that had opened
countless rejection letters over the years, and without hesitation
thrust it deep into his own heart
were buried together in the heart of Yorkshire and
abruptly stopped reading and examined the nondescript tomb in front
it my mind and ears playing tricks on me? Surely that is the sound
of gentle tapping' He thought.
shuddered and tried to regain his composure.
all at once stopped typing.
wrong now dear?" Mildred cooed.
am sure I can hear someone outside dear." He whispered picking
up his letter opener "I think I will go out and see who is
disturbing my writing."