Creak




Creak

 
I’m sure the floor creaked.  For months, I’d been squatting in a basement where the homeowner was bed bound on the second floor. I settled my possessions in the corner of the basement and scavenged a rug to put on the dirt floor. The house had a gravity furnace with decorative metal vents open from ceilings to floors above and the rising heat warmed the house. The dirt floor creaked again. It was not possible. I went to the furnace and looked up the vent and saw an old woman, lying face down. She creaked out the word Help. Creak, Help.
 
Paul Beckman 

Paul Beckman has two story collections, “Peek” and “Come! Meet My Family and other stories”. He has had over 300 of his stories published in print, on line in the following magazines as well as others: Literary Orphans, Connecticut Review, Playboy, Matter Press, Litro, Thrice Fiction, The Airgonaught, Jellyfish Review, and R.K.V.R.Y. He runs the monthly FBomb NY flash fiction reading series at KGB. Paul had a micro story selected for the 2018 Norton Microfiction Anthology.

My published story website is www.paulbeckmanstories.com

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