WEEK 361
Sara ignored the ringing telephone. No need to answer, it was probably just...


...her mother. Calling again, wondering how her date went last night. "NOT ANSWERING!" Sara yelled at the phone as if it could hear her and pass the message on to her mother. Walking into the other room she reflected on the date. Dan was handsome, sure, but had actually thought that she was interested in hearing about his ex-wife, her new breast implants, and younger minor league baseball player boyfriend. "Not bloody likely." Sara muttered to herself. "Sorry, Mom, no possibility of grandkids yet.

by Rachelle, Canada

...another pathetic telemarketer. No need to waste her time. Sara went back to reading. She heard a knock. Sara looked towards the lime green door. More knocking, and more, louder and louder.

Sara walked silently to the door. She put her eye up to the peep-hole. Nobody was there. She was breathingly heavily. She looked back. There standing at the glass back door was a man smiling. Sara screamed as loud as she could. Sara ran to her room, her red hair tangled from the speed. She lunged onto her bed and cried. The man must've gone she thought. Then suddenly the man was there in her doorway. Wearing jeans, a dark shirt, and blonde hair. He smiled.

Sara woke up. It was only a dream she thought. The phone rang, she answerd. "You should have answered the phone!" spoke a man. Sara screamed.

by Brandon Kneebone, Milwaukie, Oregon USA

...her mom asking if she was ok. The annoying bleep of her answering machine kicked in and Sara picked up the whole machine and threw it against her wall leaving a large dent in it. The phone and reciver clanged noisly againt the floor. Tears streamed from her eyes as she layed it bed. Why did she kill someone....

by Lauren K, Muncie

...another wrong number. Sara hesitated and then lunged towards the phone. Rick could be injured somewhere, she thought, as she picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

There was no answer, just heavy breathing.

"Rick?"

Still no reply.

Sara slammed the phone down and went to the front door. She pulled the curtain aside and tried to focus on anything in the engulfing darkness that lay beyond the light for the front porch. She started to turn away when a movement caught her eye.

"What was that?" she whispered to herself.

She looked at the phone as if it were going to answer her. The heavy breathing echoed in her thoughts. A thousand nefarious thoughts bombarded her rational. Fear wrapped its black wings around her soul.

Sara looked out the window again. The close light and distant darkness was gone. A set of red eyes were inches from her own.

by Donald Stidham, Cleveland, TN

...The Darkness. They had been calling now for the better part of a week. Sara grabbed her O2 mask and her pistol and slung a pack over her shoulder. Sara knew that if The Darkness caught up with her, they would take her to The Hill and do their tests on her just like they did to Skyler.

"The hell with that.." Sara mumbled as she checked the clip on her gun and adusted the mask on her face. Ever since the Great End War, people had been disapearing from their homes and changed into genetic warriors that the government used to scour the Killing Fields for insurgents. Sara wan't going to let that happen to her...

by Mike H, Muncie, IN

...that heavy breather who had been calling now for about a week. Suddenly, Sara remembered something her husband had brought home from the football game. Carl always brought home something from the games, but this item could actually be useful. As the phone rang a sixth time, Sara rose from the sofa and picked up the miniature air horn that Carl had triumphantly secured from the stadium gift shop. Picking up the receiver just as the ninth ring concluded, she held the air horn against the mouthpiece and pushed the button on the top of the horn. When her own ears stopped ringing from the blast that came from the air horn, she calmly spoke into the receiver, "Are you going to bother calling again tomorrow?"

After a moment of silence, the caller finally spoke, "Sara, it's Mom."

by Stewart Lindsay, Buffalo, NY