The Last House on Palm Street.

The last house on Palm Street hasn’t seen tenants for five years.

Five years ago Martin, a twenty five- year - old handsome young man with twinkling hazel green eyes bought the house and a week later disappeared. A fortnight later, he was found sitting on the maple bench in the forlorn Mermaid’s Park, dead. The coroner determined the cause of death as sudden and inexplicable. The only thing found on Martin was a withered forget-me-not clasped in his left fist. His body was never claimed.

Nobody knew anything about the handsome young man who brought this taint of mystery into their neighborhood. Palm Street couldn’t stop talking about the mystery man and his mysterious demise for months. All sorts of theories began to brew in the coffee cups of the local cafes, in the kitchens of housewives who got together for tea, biscuits and gossips, in the corridors of the local school and sometimes in the church aisle on Sundays.

Who was Martin? What was his last name? Why did he come to Palm Street? What did he do for a living when he was alive? Was he an orphan? Did he come here to die? What was he doing in the Mermaids Park? Where did he get the forget-me-not from? There weren’t any in the park; in fact, there weren’t any in Palm Street.

Six months later, a woman in her mid thirties, tall with amiable features, with obscure relations to Martin inherited his house but never moved in. The house was put up sale since.

The house was two storied with oriel windows and coated in white paint which had begun to flake since its owner’s death and form contours on its walls in its every room. Any onlooker would for a moment be convinced that they had seen a surreal painting on its walls but would shake their heads to break the illusion. No one ever stared at the contours for over thirty seconds as something stirred in their insides; some foreboding feeling crawled under their skin, it warned them of some unnatural encounter.

But if they had looked, they would have seen how the contours were a narrative of a handsome young man with twinkling hazel green eyes.

Reviews

[Asmi]

Very good writing... I liked the plot and the eerie happenings. The only suggestion I have and it is just that; this particular story I feel you are telling me, more than you are showing me.... Course only you know how you want it to read. Best of luck and I do love the plot and the walls that have a hidden purpose...

[Asmi]

Well, I was excited to see someone review my story and was all the more happy to know it was from someone of your exposure and experience. Thanks a ton, it means a lot to me. :)

Yes, I wrote it in the telling way as you pointed out. It kind of happened that way. I wanted it to be a mixture of both..but ended up having only one element of narration. I will work on it.

I am sure you will do a very good job... that is what I love about writing, we have the ability to re-do, play, change and manipulate any way we see fit. I am looking forward to reading more of your work.

[Asmi]

Thank you. I appreciate your input and encouragement. I will do my best.

[theNeoSandman]

This was a very good read Asmi. I enjoyed it very much.

The visual pictures your words created in my head were quite vivid.

Hope you continue writing. Looking forward for more. :)

[New Theory]

Nice haunting story, it was never explained why the young man with hazel green eyes died but that puts a nice air of mystery to it and with it comes the eerie horror to this short. You can add more details to the story and I think its awesome.

Can you please review my story "While you were asleep?" I think you will like it.

[Asmi]

Thank you New Theory, it was a hurried piece written in half an hour...hence the lack of details.

[New Theory]

Nice piece though, waiting for more horror stories from you as this shows you have what it takes to write a good horror story. Do send me read requests when you are done.

[W. C. Forrest]

Outstanding work Asmi. The plot is well defined and never looses focus. The use of vocabulary is apt and commendable. It reminded me of a story I read a long time ago called 'The Face on the Wall' by E. V. Lucas. The style of writing was somewhat similar to Ruskin Bond. Enjoyed reading.

[Asmi]

Thank you, Eeshan and.. jeez! Ruskin Bond ?!!!

Yes, I can see why you were reminded of 'The Face on the Wall' -- the glaring 'contour' factor . :D

[W. C. Forrest]

Jeez! Ruskin Bond?
He is one of the foremost pioneer of children's' literature in India. Why a repulsive retort?

[Asmi]

I meant Jeez in a good way....like a delightful surprise :)