Creative Writing 2000

 
Dead True
By Allan Browne.
1999

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Just where does fact become fiction or is it the product of a fevered imagination is the topic of this story. This tale of sheer absurdity began one Christmas, when a man named John accepted an invitation to stay with some friends living in the North Country over the festive holiday. Thus it was that John and a friend of his, set off on the trip up from London. The roads were dangerous that year, for they were covered with thick snow and by the time the two men were close to their destination. it had grown extremely dark. It soon became obvious that they were lost and having driven about aimlessly for some time, they spotted light in the distance and decided to make their way towards it. The house to which the light belonged was a somewhat impressive building. They opened some large gates and drove slowly up the driveway. John's companion then got out of the car and yanked the ornate bell-pull at the door. A man who seemed to be the butler of the house finally opened the door. John's friend clearly thought so too, because he gave the man fifty pence as a token of his thanks for giving him the required directions. The two then arrived quite late and made their apologies explaining what had happened. Much to their annoyance their hosts laughed at their story and dismissed it as being ridiculous. The matter was then forgotten until the following morning when the subject was brought up again. A big argument ensued and their host said "John, it would have been impossible for you to have visited that house, you see, it was burned to the ground twenty years ago!" It was finally decided that the only way to settle this dispute was to actually drive over there and view the evidence in the daylight. When they got there John was stunned…. The gates were rusty and padlocked and there was nothing left of the house except for the rotting and charred foundations! However, upon examination, they discovered that not only were there visible tracks in snow, but there by what would have been the door, was a fifty pence coin in the snow. Creepy!

 

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