Prompt Post - Part Five [CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS]
THIS PART IS NOW CLOSED. YOU CAN CONTINUE POSTING FILLS, BUT PLEASE PROMPT ALL NEW THINGS HERE.
Part one here!
Part two here!
Part three here!
Part four here!
Feel free to reprompt posts from parts one, two, three or four in part five once. If you do so, I'd recommend leaving a link to your fill on the original prompt, in case somebody is tracking ( Read more... )
The next day Mr. Allen complimented her casserole and offered to do her yard work. Mrs. Whitmore decided he was a good man then.
It wasn’t until a few weeks went by that she began to notice the oddities of the Allen family.
First was that their nephew seemed to spend more time at the Allen home than at his. Recently the young man had even taken to showing up in the middle of the night. Mrs. Whitmore knew this because he wouldn’t be there when she went to bed but she’d spot him eating breakfast in his pajamas the next morning. Mrs. Whitmore found herself assuming his family had issues.
Second was that they went through food so quickly. About a month’s worth in a week; and that almost doubled soon after their nephew turned twelve. Mrs. Whitmore couldn’t come up with an explanation for it.
Third was that Mr. Allen had the strangest schedule. He only used his car half the time and when he did Mr. Allen would leave earlier than if he were walking. Then every so often he would just vanish; sometimes for only a few hours and sometimes for a few days. Mrs. Allen never seemed suspicious about her husband’s random disappearances; though Mrs. Whitmore noticed she would cook enough for a feast when he was gone. Maybe that was her way of dealing with worry.
Mrs. Whitmore pondered these things as she turned off the sink. The dishes could be washed later; it was too dark to neighbor watch anyway.
She headed up the stairs fully intent on getting some rest when the sound of breaking glass reached her ears. Mrs. Whitmore followed her first instinct: get the phone and call the police. However, she was still too far away from the phone when a masked thief carrying a crowbar came into the room.
The thief came at her with crowbar raised. Mrs. Whitmore held her hands up to protect her head and squeezed her eyes shut. The blow never came.
Mrs. Whitmore peaked open an eye to see Mr. Allen standing in front of her and the thief unconscious on the floor.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
“Why don’t you sit down? I’ll call the police.”
“Mr. Allen?”
“I told you before. Call me Barry.”
“Thank you, Barry.”
Mr. Allen may be strange but Mrs. Whitmore stuck to the conclusion that he was a good man.
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