trembleHeadlights coming at her was all she remembered. She had come around the corner where the gates to the old Miller plantation stood. She was supposed to meet with Shawn and Sarah Miller. The descendants of  Remy and Drucilla Miller. She was writing a piece for “The Gazette” ,a local paper, about the recent battle between the Millers and  City Officials over roadside expansion.  She remembered that. She remembered driving. It had been  a gloomy day. Miss Miller’s assistant had said “Dinner would be promptly at 7pm”. She had left an hour early so she would not be late. She had heard the Millers  liked to” put on airs”. She had worn a simple black dress and flats. A blue lightweight jacket with big pockets. She left her blonde hair long and she wore her cat eye glasses. She was trying to look nice, but not too nice. She had her tape recorder and extra batteries. Her notebook and pencils tucked neatly in a tote, lying next to her purse in the passenger seat. Her name tag was hanging from her rear view mirror. She had been hired right out of college. This was the most important assignment she had received so far. She wanted to do a great job. She remembered answering her cell phone and seeing those lights. She had no idea how she got there. She was lying against a tree. She was sore and there was a cut on her left arm. She felt very tired. She looked in her pocket for her cell phone. It was not there. She raised up slowly and kind of winced at the pain.She looked around frantically for her purse. She got on all fours and pushed herself to stand. She looked around for her car. She turned all around. “Where the hell is the road” she said. She heard a sound. It was a clanking sound, like wind chimes. She heard a mans voice. “Whoa Nah, Whoa, eezy, eezy Nah, eezy”. She thought she heard a horse. She called out “Help, I need help” She started walking toward the noise. She couldn’t imagine what on earth had happened to her car. She came through the trees. They were so close together. There, in front of her were three black men. No shoes. No shirts. Stacking stones. She stood motionless. Her mouth open. Her eyes second guessing everything she was seeing in front of her. There was an older man with a horse and a wagon full of stones on the dirt road. It did not make any sense to her. She thought she must have stumbled onto a movie set. That would explain it. That is why one of the men had shackles on his ankles and why one of them was wearing what looked like the frame for some kind of cage around his neck. The man with the horse said “Hey Dare Miss, Oh Nah, You hurt” She said “Am I messing up your scene?”. She was looking around frantically. “I think I may have had a car accident” she said. “Whoa Nah Missy, Yooo out Yo head, “Morris! Yaw go on, Go get Miss Dru and Masser Remey, Gone Naw” The man with the cage on his head immediately looked at her, his eyes spoke volumes, he did as he was told. Melanie Micheals knew in that instant. This was not a movie set. She had never been so confused in her life. The old man said “Come Missy, Sit on up here “as he patted the seat on the wagon. “Go fetch tha gourd from tha well, some cool whatta fix you right up Missy” The man with the shackles sort of hobbled in the same direction as the other one. Melanie climbed up on the seat. It hurt quite a bit to climb. She looked at the old man with pleading eyes. “Ida hep ya Missy, I ain’t loud ta lay hands on no white woman.” he said. “Why?” she said. “Where am I?”she looked at the other man who had continued to stack the stones. He was sweating . He would not make eye contact with her. She could feel herself start to tremble.

About americanwoman13

I am a writer
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7 Responses to Tremble

  1. stkingauthor says:

    I appreciate your economy in words: how much you’d managed to wrap and package in such a neat parcel. What curious scenery. Maybe there’s a greater work attached to this? I feel fortunate to read your posts and I hope you keep it going.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you for your encouraging words. Any feedback I receive is welcome as I have been entirely on my own as far as my writing is concerned. I am working on something. I have been for quite some time. I hope to get published one day. I am in the process of learning how to manage my work. All my short stories could be expanded. I love to write and I have a million ideas. I am learning from others daily and I look forward to reading your work as well. Sincerely, Tammy Tolbert

      Liked by 2 people

  2. thinkinkadia says:

    There are lots of word pressers in the same boat. I know where you are coming from, and hope your wish comes to fruition. Look forward to reading more from you! Thanks for your follow.

    Liked by 2 people

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