Collection of Short Stories

It is a small collection of short stories.


4. Missing

Christine Stoke looked at the calendar on her home office wall and sighed at the ringed date. “The third of June,” she thought as a small tear cascaded down her cheek. It was a year now since her dad had disappeared for no reason at all. He had just left his house going to the shops, his neighbours said. Nothing was wrong with him, he didn’t have Alzheimer's, nothing was on his mind, and it was just a normal day. Chris began to remember, as she placed small A4 posters on the tree lined road. ‘Missing’ said the poster. With a colour photo of her dad, a mobile phone number, and a £1000 reward if he was found. Chris looked at her feet and remembered rubbing them after walking miles around with arms full of posters, and hope. She even looked on the web of missing people, and was astonished at the number of people disappearing over the year. Hundreds of people just left there homes and completely vanish for no apparent reason. She went to a local missing persons group run by a support group, where every chair was filled and the same similar story of missing parents, children, mothers, fathers, grand-parents. She smiled as she remembered she had an article in the ‘Sunday Mercury’ that was highlighting ‘missing people’ that Christmas. She smiled again as his picture ‘Dr Ian Stoke, Professor of Cosmology, who was famous for his theories of Strings, Quantum Physics and Braines’ and story were emblazoned on a whole page.  Christine sighed as she opened the front door and looked at her car. She was on her way to her father’s house to empty it completely. It was now on sale. He was on his own after her mother had died a year before he disappeared. The police had checked the area, the local pond, canal and local fields. They even checked the spooky Darkwood forest, and it’s really eerie reputation. None of the police vanished. “Great!” she moaned as the sky decided to rain. She hated driving in the rain. She ran to her car and just about managed not to get to wet. The road was uncannily quiet. “It was Saturday, what was wrong with people!” she exclaimed as the traffic lights changed to green. Ten minutes later, Shadows Light Road came into sight. Within a couple of seconds she parked her car on the driveway of her father’s house, another tear ran down her face. She opens the front door and walked around the near empty house. Someone had bought it for 450,000, which she accepted, it wasn’t the money it was losing a long, long memory. Chris threw the last piece of her dad’s memory into the large cardboard box, and returning to her car placed it into the boot. Suddenly she glanced to her right and noticed seven A4 posters of her father still on the trees she had placed them. Locking the boot she walked down Shadow’s Light taking the weathered paper from there living home. The last poster came into view and her eyes filled with emotion. Chris took her handkerchief from her trouser pocket and cleared her eyes. Suddenly she dropped the leaflets from her right hand as the sight of three different suns in a bright crimson sky etched themselves onto her eyes with a slight warm breeze. She couldn’t believe it, looking down at the papers lying on purple lawn like grass. She gasped and turned around, suddenly she shrieked at the sight of her father still living and directly in front of her. “CHRISTINE,” said her father. Chris cried and ran to him. “There’s no way back,” he told her as he put his arms around his daughter. David Stoke placed a poster on a near by tree in Shadow’s Light Road with the message ‘Christine Stoke, MISSING, 3rd June 2011. Have you seen her?’ The End

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