Tuesday Tales 2025-2-11 Heart

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, powered by a small group of authors, where word prompts inspire passages in the books we’re writing. Today’s scene is from a cozy mystery set in fictional Glisten, Georgia, and our word of the day is heart. When you finish reading, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.

I sank into a chair to watch the rainfall. Its roaring rhythm swept around me, calm and soothing. My body slumped and relaxed. After a few moments my eyelids fluttered and closed. I drifted into a zone. Peaceful.

Next thing I knew, an icy zap pierced the base of my neck. “Wake up!” a voice shrilled.

My eyes flew open, my heart thumping.

Ghost Vonna stood beside me. One second her face was contorted in rage, and the next it crumbled into abject misery. “Why aren’t you helping me? Why haven’t you found my killer?” To my astonishment, tears streamed down her pallid cheeks.

I jumped to my feet. “I am trying!”

Her rage returned in a flash but now was cold, bitter, and piercing. She uttered through clenched teeth, “Not hard enough.” Her words shot at me like a bullet.

I shot back. “You have all the answers. You texted Luella to meet you,” I accused. “Told her something wild about Jack and then broke into this house after she went to bed. Did you find what you were looking for? What was it? What were you looking for?”

“For proof. Something Jack found out about. They-they were in the East. I wanted—” Awareness dripped away like melting ice. Her eyes glazed over, vacant.

“Proof of what? What had Jack discovered?” I grabbed at her arm, but there was nothing of substance to her.

“Find my killer before it’s too late. Help me!” She shrieked.

The words echoed from wall to wall, until the room vibrated with the sound. Along with the echo was her transparent figure, blinking in and out, in and out, like a receding lighthouse. With the final reverberation, she was gone.

Shaking, I went into Jack’s office, opened a cabinet and removed a bottle, and poured into a shot glass a thimble-sized measure of Paddy’s. I went to bed and slept fitfully, until sunlight streamed through the lacy curtains. I snapped awake from a dream of ghost Vonna. Irritably, I threw off the covers and stomped into the bathroom, splashed water on my face, and gazed at my reflection. Pale. Bloodshot eyes. I looked haunted. I was haunted! What was this—ghost Vonna morning, noon, and night? Now she not only haunted my waking life but invaded my dreams, and specifically, just before waking so I’d be sure to remember.  

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the piece inspired by the word heart. If you haven’t done so already, check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Spirited Stories

All rights reserved, copyright @ 2025 Flossie Benton Rogers