Another preface for a serial written by Dan Oliver. One of the most intriguing things about writing serials is that the experience teaches writers to experiment in different genres and this leads to a more all round knowledge of writing techniques. Dan is an accomplished author who demonstrates these qualities with every new preface or chapter. His work is refreshing and interesting. I look forward to more. Why not go to www.thestorymint.com and read a selection of serials.
It’s just so perfect!” sighed Mandy.
“It really is,” replied Brad, her husband.
They stood at the window of their newly purchased house, looking out over the
four acres of their lifestyle block.
They were there – in their dream house, in
a delightful rural community out of the big smoke. The bargain asking price was
too good to resist, and the property was the kind they had dreamed of one day
buying together to spend their middle ages in the tranquillity of the country
side.
From the front lounge window they could see
almost all of their section cascading down in rolling undulations to a stream
that wandered through the valley at the edge of their land. To their left a
dark clump of pines stood in neat rows. To the right, in contrast, was a
weathered old shed. Outside of the shed a dilapidated tractor perched on a set
of four gnarly tree stumps. The vehicle had once been red, but was now covered
mostly in rust patches, dirt and bird droppings. Its wheels were missing, and
it had clearly been there, a testament to bygone labour and effort, for some
time.
To Brad and Mandy, it all added to the
picturesqueness of the property. To Jackson and Matthew, their two sons, it
added to the adventurousness of their new home.
Mandy turned to Brad, “Do you know where
the boys are at the moment?”
“They went down to the stream. They’ve
convinced themselves they will find buried treasure so they took the shovel.”
At 11 and 7 years old, they were capable of looking after themselves.
“I guess they’ll be a while then. Is the
bed set up?” enquired Mandy. She gave Brad a suggestive look. Brad met her gaze
and a smile touched the corners of his mouth. Their thoughts, however, were
extinguished by the sound of shrill voices coming from down the farm. The boys
had finished their treasure hunt early.
Brad sighed, and Mandy chuckled. As she
walked off to the kitchen, Brad opened the sliding door to the deck and went
outside to meet the boys. To his surprise they were carrying something and wore
huge grins across their dirty faces.
“We found the treasure, Dad!” called
Matthew, “Look!” A small artefact, no bigger than a shoe box, was held aloft.
“Wow, nice work!” shouted Brad. “Let’s have
a look at it.”
The boys marched up the stairs of the deck
and plonked their discovery on the outdoor table. To Brad’s utter bewilderment
it actually looked like a miniature chest. It was not locked but the aged
hinges stubbornly resisted. As Brad prised off the lid he felt the hair on the
back of his neck prickle in sudden apprehension. Inside was a single, crumpled
piece of paper. Brad carefully unravelled it to view the
contents. What he saw overcame him with
such a terrible fear that his eyes started watering and he felt physically ill.
He screamed.
Dan Oliver (NZ) copyright Dan Oliver 2014
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