Share with your friends. It’s FREE !!! Read More. It’s still FREE here.
Mixed Emotions – After weeks of non-stop nagging from my wife of many years, and my live-in mother-in-law of way too many years, nagging which I usually referred to as ‘haunting’, I finally conceded to allow the in-law-terrible’ to take my brand new, wonderful, very fast and very powerful sports car for a short drive; which she, after taking the car key from its custom made, wall-mounted holder, which matches – matched, past tense – the shape and style of the car, and after taking her coordinated fur-trimmed gloves, hat, and coat from the hall tree in the foyer, and donning the same, within ten minutes had involved herself in a fatal accident, as she attempted to make a too sharp turn onto a too narrow bridge at the bottom of a rain-slick, too steep hill, being, just as I had warned too many times because it wasn’t just raining but pouring, unable to control the speed and direction of the vehicle, and had somehow navigated around and over a safety embankment meant to prevent just such a thing, and flown half a football field’s length straight out in the air, then plummeted six hundred feet to the canyon floor, there to burst into flames which consumed the car, and converted her to a woman-shaped pillar of ashes, dressed in the ashy version of coordinated fur-trimmed gloves, hat, and coat, and still gripping the steering wheel, and had a discernible, wild eyed expression that said, as usual, this is all your fault, you-idiot-my-daughter-married; and though I believe for a certainty, that that was her last thought, and I believe I should feel at least a tinge of remorse, but I don’t, because I can’t help but juggle the mixed emotions caused by the fact that my brand new sports car just drove my mother-in-law off a cliff, tee-hee. However, after returning from the morgue, where my wife and I had to identify her charred remains, still exhibiting the you-idiot-my-daughter-married expression, upon approaching and entering the back door, we discovered muddy footprints, like wet ashes, leading into the kitchen, where we were shocked, amazed, really disappointed to discover that very same, just identified, totally deceased mother-in-law, standing as tall as a pillar of ashes dressed in burned-ash-coordinated fur-trimmed gloves, hat, and coat, could stand, and repeating over and over, “You think I was haunting,….. before?”
Read more scary stories from the frightening mind of Andy Bozeman in THIRTEEN TWO SENTENCE GHOST STORIES here.
Leave a Reply