The Premonition

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story inspired by CTPlatts excellent poem, 'She Worries'.

Submitted: March 27, 2017

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Submitted: March 27, 2017

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The Premonition.

 

Agnes Bailey was not the superstitious sort. In fact, she had always been one to ridicule those that were. So when she woke up one morning with a bad feeling, a premonition that something very unpleasant was about to happen, she did not know quite what to do.

 

For a moment she just lay there, scanning her room from her bed. Everything was where it should be, as it should be......There was nothing visible to account for her feeling of unease. Agnes got up and warily entered the bathroom, but again there was nothing out of place.

 

After double-checking that the kettle held enough water, Agnes made herself a cup of coffee. She was extra careful making sure that her hands were completely dry before touching that switch. Usually she would have a slice of toast with her morning coffee but she simply had no appetite. In fact, she felt like she could very well choke if she tried to eat anything.

 

While she drank her coffee Agnes tried to make sense of this feeling that was gripping her. She felt a threat, as though she was at risk. But from what, or why she felt that way remained a mystery. It was nonsense of course, the remnants of a bad dream, perhaps. But she still found herself taking extra care.

 

Agnes carefully loaded her dishwasher, and carefully turned off her light. She paid attention when she climbed the stairs, and even more so when she walked back down them. If she tripped and fell she might hit the wall at the bottom of the stairs and who knew how long she could be laying there before anybody found her.

 

As she walked out of her house towards the bus stop Agnes made sure she kept to the building side of the pavement. At the bus stop she waited well back from the road, even though that allowed several other passengers to push easily in front of her. On any other day Agnes would never have stood for such behaviour.

 

As the bus travelled along its route, Agnes looked out of the window. She kept any eye on both sides of the road, on the pavements, on the traffic, scanning and scanning for anything that might cause a dangerous situation. She waited until the bus had come to a complete standstill before rising up off of her seat.

 

Agnes was always careful when crossing roads, using designated crossings, or zebras whenever she possibly could. Not underpasses though, they were to be avoided at all times but especially on this day.

 

As she went about her shopping, Agnes stayed alert to any dangers but what threats were there really in the shopping arcades. There were no suspicious characters loitering and looking like muggers. The chance of there being an armed raid was so remote it was not worth worrying about. No, Agnes decided, she could afford to relax a bit while she set about filling her basket.

 

Back out on the street, Agnes went back to being wary and watchful. She again stayed well away from the traffic and let others board the bus in front of her. She knew she was being ridiculous. There was nothing in any way unusual about the day and Agnes silently chided herself for even giving the feeling of danger any kind of thought.

 

She walked along the road towards her house with a lot more confidence, a lot less care. She didn’t take much notice of the man walking along in front of her and he seemed totally oblivious to her. Agnes Bailey did not notice the cigarette butt, still burning, that the man dropped onto the pavement, and she certainly had no idea about the underground gas leak.

The resulting explosion that blew her sky high came as a complete shock.

 

 

 

 


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