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 child. When you finish reading, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.
Unease settled over her weathered features, making the grooves and ridges more noticeable. When she shook her head, it looked more like a shudder than a shake. “You know what they say about loose lips. If truth will out, then let it out itself. Besides, I don’t know how I can help you with your sorting.”
Her perplexing words had me hopping from foot to foot. “What do you mean my sorting?”
She squinted, looked around, and settled her dark eyes on me. Squaring sinewy shoulders, she blurted, “Ain’t you lookin’ for the truth about that murder? Ain’t the spirits talking their heads off at you? And ain’t there a near revenant that can’t rest?”
I sucked in a breath. “A—a revenant?”
“Who?”
“The murdered girl. She can’t rest, can she? She seeks her killer.”
“How do you know all this?” I whispered.
“Been around a long time. Is it true?”
“Yes, but how do you know? Do you see them, too?”
She shook her head. “For me, it’s all quiet now. Ceptin’ my own thoughts. I can do one thing for you, child. May or may not help.” She looked around again toward the hills.
I looked, too. What was she afraid of? The diesel truck still rumbled somewhere out of sight, and something niggled in the back of my mind. She slipped a hand into her pocket and came out with the same patchwork pouch I’d seen before. She closed her fist over it quick and moved close to me.
My heartbeat sped up.
“Take it. Slip it into your pocket.”
I did so.
“It’s a charm, a witch’s burr. Sometimes the old ways are best. I made one for your mama years ago when she and your father broke apart. You ever find it?”
I shook my head.
“Maybe Black Jack got it.”
“I’ve never heard my godfather called that.”
“He has toned down some. Don’t open it here.” She climbed onto the bicycle and wheeled away.
Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the piece inspired by the word child. 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
Wow! Lots of tension here. A revenant, That’s something I didn’t expect. Good touch. Looking forward to more. Well done.
And the murdered girl is already fraught enough without the revenant aspect entering into the picture!
Love this old lady and the spooky suspense she adds to the scene. I don’t know what a revenant is, but I’m looking forward to finding out.
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