Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them for free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 17
In the early hours of the warm summer night, Bert's all consuming jealousy held him awake. He didn’t have long to wait before he heard footsteps. With shaking fingers he adjusted the noose in his wire and passed it through a wide gap in the scaffolding’s floorboards.
A waft of his fiancé's perfume reached his nose and stung his eyes, and a violent sneeze threatened to give him away. He took a deep breath, held it, and concentrated on dropping the wire loop around her lover's neck.
Olive unlocked the door to her house, and Bert positioned his noose, ready to snare Dick Charmer. But the door slammed shut behind her and Bert blinked this way and that: her fancy-man wasn't with her.
It dawned on him then that he'd follow later, giving Olive time to repair her face and slip into something sexy. This was a severe obstacle to his genius plan: it wouldn't work now. Feeling cheated, he let the sneeze explode, and for good measure, he farted too. With his scheme foiled, he leaned back on his hands and tilted his head from side to side, trying to think of a Plan B.
He wished his best mate Alf was with him because he was full of gumption and would know what to do. He would probably tell him to cut most of the way through the top rungs of the scaffolding's ladders. That way, when Dick Charmer climbed them in the morning, they would shatter under his weight and he would fall and break his neck.
But Alf wasn’t there to give advice. Alf was on security duty over on the Cloud Estate. It was a stupid plan, anyway, and he'd tell him so when he saw him next. Dick Charmer needed to meet his end before his night of passion, not after.
Then Bert rolled onto his back, let his head slump, and gazed at the mocking stars. The vastness gave him the sense that time had stopped, as if his internal main spring had snapped. His chin quivered, his chest hitched, and tears collected in the corners of his eyes. There was only one other solution to relieve his tortured heart, and that was to hang himself.
To be continued…
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A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
At long last I got around to reading about Ove, pronounced Oover. Brilliant story: amusing, heartbreaking, and so true to life. My main problem with the book is that I think they modelled Ove on me! When my wife read it, I heard repeatedly, "That's just like you."
Minus half a star for shoddy translation in places (from Swedish).
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James at Goodreads