Short Stories

Hobby

I open the old worn down door that leads to the silent backyard. I step onto the wet grass, my boots getting damp the further I walked in the backyard . I looked up at the night sky yet not a star was visible though the grey clouds. The moon struggled to shine though. Wind gushes past my face, it felt like I was kissed by death.

Looking around I see the garden that has turned into a battlefield between the flowers and weeds, a battle to be lost. I see the weeds choking the plants as I can almost hear the flowers begging for help. I was never one for guarding. My wife would be disappointed in me if she ever saw the gauden like this.

I approach my run down tin shed that screams with every gust of wind. She loved to garden. It was such a sweet hobby.

I place my hand on the cold metal door handle. Slowly I open the door revealing a dark room. "Too bad my hobby isn't gentle" I flick on the light in the she which swang low from the ceiling. Chains clanged on the shed walls.

"My hobby is a bit violent" The chains hit the walls at a faster pace.

"Now, are you ready to tell me what you have done wrong" Muffled screams come from the centre of the shed as I slam the door shut.