Flashes of Speculation

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  • Date: Monday, October 09, 2006 Time: 8:57 am Category: Stories Discussion: 1 Comment

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The stack of assorted cleaning supplies gave him small moments of comfort.

It happened one day.

He was opening the door to let the dog out and then his eyes were drawn to the corner. He had done this countless times before and for some reason or another, he never stopped to look. Today he did and everyday afterward. He would let the dog out and then soak in the stack of cleaning supplies.

He would think about how he never really spent that much time in this room.

Other rooms in the house warranted his attention more but somehow this room held a stronger atmosphere.

Things were good here.

Things will always be good in here, he thought.

No matter what calamity hurled itself through the other places in the house, this room would hold on and never give up its tranquility. Amazing, he wanted to phone the local news but they were only interested if the Virgin Mary had appeared on a doorknob or piece of wallpaper.

An idea struck his brain.

He could always fake a sighting!

There is quite a lot one can do with some hard work and a bottle of Pine Sol.

He went to work fashioning a makeshift miracle. His hands rummaged through the stack and pulled out various items. A little pine sol here, a little bleach here, a few passes with the broom, a once over with the mop and there it was, the Virgin Mary right in the center of the hardwood floor.

He put away the supplies and looked at his creation, his mind scrutinizing every detail, this had to be perfect, this had to be, otherwise the cameras would never come.

Suddenly his vision grew blurry. The Virgin Mary appeared to move, to twist as if she was dancing like a stripper. The image contorted.

He heard a woman’s voice.

“I like you,” the voice said repeatedly, growing deeper each time.

His head started to spin.

He lost his balance tumbling to the floor.

Mary’s arms reached out from the floor, her hands gently moving up and down his arms and neck.

“I like you.” The voice was nothing more than a growl now; he could barely make out what it was saying. “I like you.”

He felt Mary’s hands removing his clothes, the floor felt cold against him. Then he blacked out.

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