That Mystery Floating Alongside

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  “The side of the ship made an opaque belt of shadow on the darkling glassy shimmer of the sea. But I saw at once something elongated and pale floating very close to the ladder. Before I could form a guess a faint flash of phosphorescent light, which seemed to issue suddenly from the naked body of a man, flickered in the sleeping water with the elusive, silent play of summer lightning in a night sky. With a gasp I saw revealed to my stare a pair of feet, the long legs, a broad livid back immersed right up to the neck in a greenish cadaverous glow. One hand, awash, clutched the bottom rung of the ladder. He was complete but for the head. A headless corpse! The cigar dropped out of my gaping mouth with a tiny plop and a short hiss quite audible in the absolute stillness of all things under heaven. At that I suppose he raised up his face, a dimly pale oval in the shadow of the ship’s side. But even then I could only barely make out down there the shape of his black-haired head. Howev...

“. . . While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.”

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 For years we visited family in for Thanksgiving or Christmas celebrations. On one visit the house was full, and the only place remaining for two boys (my oldest cousin and myself) to sleep was . . . The breakfast room, right next to the kitchen. That was a mistake. 

Two sleepless boys + insatiable grumbling bellies + love for chocolate. . . Are those BonBons? Bourbon Balls, you say? Don’t mind if I do! Ssshhhhh! Hahahaha!


Brownies, cookies, fudge—it did not matter. Nothing was safe. Tins were opened, plastic was peeled back, crumbs were made. Every dessert had been invaded—except the pie. That would be too obvious. Fruit? Shoot! Hand me another cookie!


Then came the morning. . .




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