I’m really pleased (though I say it myself) with the story I’m working on. So pleased, in fact, that I’m posting the first scene up to share with all [three] of you. Also, since I’ve been absent from my own blog for some time now, it seems an appropriate way of tearing down the dust sheets and declaring that I’m [possibly] back in business. So, read on and enjoy the first handful of words from Between The Devil And The Comfy Chair
It was on a Wednesday night that Daniel first woke up to find the Devil in his front room.
He was sitting in Daniel’s favourite chair, legs crossed, reading a book.
Daniel ignored him at first, thinking, quite reasonably, that he couldn’t possibly have seen the Devil sitting in his favourite chair, reading a book. It must have been a trick of the light. It simply wasn’t the sort of thing that happened on a Wednesday night.
Having resolved that, Daniel continued into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He took a few much needed gulps—it had been a hot and balmy night—and made his way back to bed. On his way through the front room, he took a second look at his favourite chair, deciding that he’d sleep better knowing for certain that he’d merely imagined seeing the Devil sitting in his favourite chair, reading a book.
The Devil looked back at him. “Yes?”
Daniel blinked, not at all sure how one was supposed to deal with this kind of situation. “Um. What are you doing?” he asked.
The devil held up his book. “I’m reading…?” he said. “Didn’t imagine you’d mind. You’re asleep most nights anyway.”
Daniel decided that this was definitely a dream. It was an exceptionally well realised one, for which he wasn’t sure whether to credit his imagination or his memory. Apart from the Devil sitting there, everything was exactly as it should be. His favourite chair had been reimagined to the last detail—even down the chevron-shaped stitch on the left arm. The photo of his son sat on the bookshelf next to the chair, facing the window. The glass of cold water in his hand felt exactly the way a glass of cold water in his hand should feel.
And the Devil was sitting there in his favourite chair, looking exactly the way Daniel had always imagined the Devil to look. He stared at Daniel, as if waiting for him to stay something.
Daniel held up his glass. “I was thirsty.”
The Devil nodded and held up the book again. “Right. Well. Do you mind …? This one’s a bit of a page-turner. Don’t want to lose my place.”
Daniel had nothing else to say. He glanced at the Devil one last time, then turned and went back into his bedroom, feeling deeply confused.
It’s at not-quite-final draft stage. Comments, reactions, corrections, and the like are welcome below. Offers to beta read the final story (likely finished next week) are even more warmly welcomed 🙂