What Pegman Saw – The Lighthouse Keeper’s Wife

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code.

WPS - The Lighthouse Keeper's Wife 190615 

(c) Jim Semonik

The Lighthouse Keeper’s Wife

My tent slapped like the sail of a gybing yacht as I pitched up within sight of the North Head lighthouse. There was moisture in the air. It tasted salty, and left a film on my spectacles. Waves hurled themselves against the rocks below the lighthouse with a power that was simultaneously exhilarating and appalling.

The wind and waves were my lullaby that night.

I awoke at about one o’clock.

Somebody was sobbing, gasping sobs of desperate distress. I pulled on waterproofs, seized my torch and went out into the gale. There was a wail up ahead, and I saw her, running pell-mell towards the cliffs.

“Stop,” I yelled.

She turned, saw me and shrieked with terror. Panic-stricken, she turned to flee.

“No!” I screamed.

Too late. She plunged over the cliff, plummeting out of sight.

I called 911, but the police found nothing.

“Mary Pesonen’s ghost,” they told me.

 

 

What Pegman Saw – A Long Journey

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the location provided, you must write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s prompt is Clinton Road, New Jersey, which has a reputation for being haunted…

WPS - A long journey - Clinton Road NJ 180303

The long journey

“Are we really going to use Clinton Road?”

Jake laughed.

“You don’t believe it’s haunted, do you, Linnie?”

“No, of course not. It’s just – well, the date.”

“So you think it matters that it’s Halloween? It’s our quickest route, you know.”

“Oh it’s fine, Jake.”

Linnie fidgeted nervously with her rosary.

The trees were dark on both sides of the road. A black truck blasted towards them, lights glaring, klaxon roaring. Linnie gasped.

“Dip your lights, idiot,” growled Jake.

“Is it much further, darling?”

“Nearly there. We’ve done fifty miles. Ten to go.”

Linnie tried to open Google Maps on her cell-phone. There was no signal.

“It’s thirty minutes since you said ten miles to go. You haven’t lost us, have you?”

Jake’s laughter was brittle.

“Of course not.”

“I’m sure we passed that sign before,” muttered Linnie.

Three hours later, still between the shadowy trees, their fuel ran out.