A Gift

This was an aborted collaborative work by the students of the Beginning Fiction Workshop at the University of Maryland, College Park. (Does it have the spark of life?) Enjoy!

Static. A few quick thumps on the side of the tv served to partially restore the reception, but the lightning storm outside was wreaking havoc on everything electric in its wake. Eric closed his eyes, leaning back in the plush recliner, trying to relax despite the crashes of thunder. Suddenly the TV went silent, and his eyes flicked open to a dark room. "Damn," he muttered to himself as he made his way carefully across the darkened room, feeling blindly for the mag light he kept in the desk near the dining room. His probing hands encountered the cool, smooth wood surface of the desk and he slid his fingers down until they contacted the cold metal handle of the drawer. It made a slight creaking noise as he pulled it open, a sudden flash of lightning illuminating the room and making it possible to quickly grab the knurled metal haft of the flashlight. He froze in place, peering in vain out the darkened window, sensing something wasn't quite right. Another flash of lightning lit up the fountain outside like the 4th of July, revealing four dark silhouettes creeping across the tiled walkway toward the house.

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