SEVEN OAKS IN A ROW ... chapter 1
He woke up. It was dark in the room.
Gently smacking his lips and trying to get moisture into his mouth, he looked around. Don't move too fast, he thought. His head was feeling prickly on the inside, like when you've squatted for a long time and then tried to rise quickly. Nothing seemed to be real at the moment. He eyes came into focus.
He saw a fireplace with a generous fire at work. The inside of the chimney had a slate-looking rock about it, and the stonework on the outside seemed to be rough and large. There seemed to be a smell of woodiness in the room.
Seemed to be. Everything "seemed to be."
Where was he?
He looked at his wrist, but saw no watch. Had he misplaced it?
His eyes tried to focus, but orange and deep red flashes of light hummed in front of him, making it hard to discern anything. He squinted hard, looking at the ceiling. The woodwork seemed rustic and crude.
A ladder led up into an attic.
No, it didn't seem to be as inconseqential as an attic. It looked like a permanent ladder, and the opening showed no closing door.
That was an upstairs room.
He rubbed his head and propped himself up on an elbow. The noise underneath him was a scratching, rough sound. He plucked his hand into the mattress beneath him and pulled up straw. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffed. It gave off a sweet, fresh smell, but he was perplexed nevertheless.
He looked to a pane-glass window and saw that the sun was setting.
There were no curtains on this window, but one farther down the wall had stiff white lace across it. A dark-stained wood table stood near the door, holding a thick black book resembling a Bible.
He coughed and felt a sharp pain in his lungs. Where were those cough drops? He was sure he had stashed three in his pocket. He had put them there this morning - or was it last night? Maybe he left them in the car...
He tried to get up, but his head pounded him back to the straw
mattress. He lay back, staring at the ceiling. Wooden beams. A rifle rack. A ham on some sort of a string.
The air seemed thin and had a pinch of cold to it. A patch of fog drifted by the window. The room seemed secure and solid, though. Nice place, for what it was worth.
He scrunched his eyes together. Where was he?
Then he opened his eyes widely.
WHO was he?
This site is under construction...give us a week and we'll be ready! Please take a look at the alphabetical list below.