One-Shot Stories

The Country Home*

You watch as the moving truck vanishes in the distance, the cloud of dust from the dirt road lingering in the sweltering summer air. You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly despite the heat. Even with the weather near unbearably toasty, there was still something immensely satisfying about the way country air settled in your lungs.

You'd recently purchased this place from a distant relative of yours, who'd seemingly been happy to get rid of it. The price you'd paid was a steal, and you almost felt bad until they'd handed you the keys. The look on their face was that of pure relief, and they actually thanked you profusely for taking the place off their hands.

You turn and look over your new home, still wondering why they'd been so willing to part with it. It was a somewhat small house, with a mix of styles from some mismatched renovations over the years, but it was in good condition and, to your eyes, pretty cute. You shake your head; well, whatever. It was yours now and you were going to enjoy it. You head inside to begin the process of arranging furniture and unpacking.

The next few days pass without incident, other than a couple of your neighbors from the nearby farms dropping by to meet you. They were all very polite, apparently having known your relative, but didn't stay very long, for which you were grateful. You still had a lot to do at the time.

At the end of your first week there, things were finally starting to feel like home. Getting things into the house had been easy, but the actual task of 'moving in' had been more difficult than you'd expected.

You sit on the porch, just looking out into the distance, when a drifting breeze makes you take notice of the tall grass in the yard. You check over it with a critical eye; things were getting a bit out of hand out here. You wonder idly if there would be any yard tools in the garage; your relative had left more than a few things behind on their way out. You glance at the time before climbing to your feet and stretching. No time like the present to take care of it.

Happily, there were indeed tools, including a pretty industrial-looking lawnmower. Checking the fuel, you're pleased to note that it was full, and go inside to change into something a bit more appropriate for outdoor work.

A quick wardrobe update later, you're back outside, walking through the yard to check for any large rocks or branches that could potentially damage the lawnmower if they were run over. As you wander closer to the small copse of trees on the edge of the property, you take note that it was even more overgrown than the yard. In fact, it looked as though it hadn't been tended to in months, if not years. You frown; you really hoped there weren't any sort of dangerous snakes or animals living in there. You make a mental note to come back to it after the rest of the yard was finished and try to clean it up a bit.

Over the next few hours, you mow the grass, clip a few branches that were a bit too close to the house, clean up the flowerbeds and just generally try to get things to a state where you wouldn't have to constantly work on it to keep it looking good. You sigh as you put the mower away, glancing toward the trees in the distance. You consider using something like a weedwhacker, but ultimately just grab a few shears and loppers, as well as a pair of heavy gloves. You carry your weapons of choice to the edge of the property and chew your lip, thinking through the problem.

You could just wade in, but that would possibly end badly. Without knowing what you were stepping on... you shake your head. Not a good idea. You finally settle on just pulling up the waist-high grass with your hands to clear a path.

You spend the rest of the afternoon working on the overgrown area, making steady progress. However, as the light of the sky turned a beautiful shade of gold, your hand wraps around something thick and heavy. Unsure of what it was you'd just grabbed, you stand, bringing the object up with you. You have the briefest of moments for it to register that it had scales before a violent wriggling pulls it from your grasp. You jump backward, startled, and trip over your feet, landing flat on your back on the dry earth.