Ramblings from the Laundry Hag

Author Jennifer L Hart and a few of her tidbits, tirades and generally amusing stuff. Please don't take off IQ points for spelling!

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Prologue: Jackson Corners


The Watcher crept the last fifty yards to crouch amidst the bleak, leafless bushes, hidden from view of the house by the murky winter sky. She was home. The smoke from the chimney and the light from the kitchen proclaimed her presence. The time was at hand and the Watcher knew what to do. The plan had been thoroughly revised to near perfection, with every variable considered. The Watcher smiled, imagining the look of horror on Isabella’s face when she realized what was about to happen. The Watcher was in no doubt of Isabella’s reaction, of what her first instinct would be; she would rush to the phone and call Noah. Isabella had turned to Noah time and again over the past few days, the Watcher had painstakingly recorded every incident and the only wildcard would be Noah’s response time. The Watcher needed only a few moments to slip away, mission accomplished.
As silent as the thickly falling snow, the Watcher moved stealthily forward, towards the beacon emanating from the kitchen window. The snow was an inconvenience, but at the same time, the Watcher knew it would cover the tracks, and by the time the authorities were alerted, all evidence of the Watcher’s presence would be erased. The Watcher gazed at her from a forty five degree vantage point, where the inky blue-black of the new moon and the fury of the snow storm acted as cover. Isabella sat in the breakfast nook, hands clutched around her favorite coffee mug and her eyes unfocused and red rimmed.
It was too exciting.
A thrill crept through the watcher’s body, as the memory of another snowy night surfaced. Heather was young, barely eighteen when the watcher had taken her into these woods. The Watcher cherished the image of Heather’s face when she realized what was impending, that her life was about to end. The stupid girl should have known better, just as Isabella should have known. The Watcher knew this kind of thinking was pointless, that soon the Watcher would become the teacher, the most important lesson forever etched on the face of the condemned. Isabella would understand, but it would be too late.
The watcher observed the light go out. It was time.

Preview: Jackson Corners: Jennifer L Hart


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