The
following short story was submitted in the Creative Writing Class at Bartlett
Senior Center, Bartlett, TN. The assignment was to use the random words below
(or any form thereof) and write something interesting.
cloudless ~ sneeze ~ stormy ~ conductor ~ eternity ~ adventurous ~ superstition
Jed stuck his nose outta the side window of the engine car, looked up at the cloudless sky, and sneezed. “Storm’s a comin!” he said matter-of-factly, as he spit a mouthful of tobacco juice and then turned and watched Jim Roy stoke the furnace. “I kin feel it in me bones.”
Jim Roy glanced into the sky and agreed. “Stormy weather ain’t nothin’ to sneeze at,” he said smiling at his own joke, knowin’ Jed would never get it. He lifted another shovel full
of coal and continued, “’specially goin’ through these here hills.”
Jed had been the conductor on this stretch of track for thirty years. He knew what the weather did during every season and over every mile all the way. The stretch he hated most was goin’ through the foothills. He didn’t believe the superstition he’d heard of people leavin’ the train and ne’er bein’ heard from agin BUT it were better to believe it and stay on the train than not and take yer chances.
“They say,” Jed continued, as if Jim Roy hadn’t heard him tell this story a hundred times, “that the howl a the wind through the canyon sounds like a banshee. They say it drives some people, people that ain’t strong a mind, plum outta theirs.”
“Who’s ‘they’?” Jim Roy asked, as he did every time Jed began the tale. He never gotta answer.
“People been known to go missin’ right off’en the train,” he ignored Jim Roy’s familiar question, “and they ain’t never seen nor heard from agin, and that’s a fact!”
Jim Roy was tired a hearin’ Jed’s tall tales. He decided he would do somethin’ ’bout it this time. When the train slowed down to go ’round Coyote Pass and the howlin’ wind let loose, Jim Roy stepped off the train and into eternity—it was his last adventurous step!
Jim Roy glanced into the sky and agreed. “Stormy weather ain’t nothin’ to sneeze at,” he said smiling at his own joke, knowin’ Jed would never get it. He lifted another shovel full
of coal and continued, “’specially goin’ through these here hills.”
Jed had been the conductor on this stretch of track for thirty years. He knew what the weather did during every season and over every mile all the way. The stretch he hated most was goin’ through the foothills. He didn’t believe the superstition he’d heard of people leavin’ the train and ne’er bein’ heard from agin BUT it were better to believe it and stay on the train than not and take yer chances.
“They say,” Jed continued, as if Jim Roy hadn’t heard him tell this story a hundred times, “that the howl a the wind through the canyon sounds like a banshee. They say it drives some people, people that ain’t strong a mind, plum outta theirs.”
“Who’s ‘they’?” Jim Roy asked, as he did every time Jed began the tale. He never gotta answer.
“People been known to go missin’ right off’en the train,” he ignored Jim Roy’s familiar question, “and they ain’t never seen nor heard from agin, and that’s a fact!”
Jim Roy was tired a hearin’ Jed’s tall tales. He decided he would do somethin’ ’bout it this time. When the train slowed down to go ’round Coyote Pass and the howlin’ wind let loose, Jim Roy stepped off the train and into eternity—it was his last adventurous step!
