Serial Vlogger: Part Forty-One

A horror novel in tiny slices

Carol hobbled over to one of the low-rise apartment buildings. Betty leaned on her, half supporting her, half stumbling in disbelief. The rain was still coming down but in lighter, softer bursts. The wind was still blowing but it was no longer a tornado. The sky couldn’t seem to make up its mind. It was dark and stormy one minute, then blue skies and white puffy clouds the next.

“Canada…” Carol muttered as if that was the answer to all that she’d just seen.

“More than Canada, though it happened in Canada…” Betty sighed. They leaned against the side of the building, gathering strength as they shivered. Betty fussed with Carol, pulling her soaking clothes around her as if they’d be warmer.

“Oh, sweetie, you have no idea…” Carol said. “So much madness in the world. And what the hell did we just see?”

They stood, holding each other, watching people begin to disperse. There were screams and sobs as loved ones discovered the tragedy strewn along the boardwalk.

The lake was still high, but slowly receding, taking more dark secrets with it.

“That…she…” Betty shivered and sobbed.

“She seemed to fall from the sky, yes. You saw that. I saw that.” Carol nodded. She felt like she was just waking up from a weekend bender in the sixties. “How?”

“She got taken by the wind…” Betty stammered. “You know, that’s how it happened. You know that…”

“I don’t know that at all…”

Carol fished through her pockets and found her tube that contained a couple of joints.

“Oh, thank God I still have some left. Damn good thing they come in these plastic containers!” Carol found her lighter and lit one of the joints.

She offered to Betty, who shook her head.

“I normally would…but, wow, I’m just way too fucked up right now. Gotta find Bobby.”

“What was it? Maybe you fell asleep, and a family member came in and …”

“No, not at all, Carol,” Betty said. “I have no family. No one knows I’m here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Carol took another drag. “But…maybe they DO know you’re here. I take it you’re not on good terms with the baby daddy?”

“No. No…no…but it’s not him. I don’t see how it could be him…” Betty shook.

“Is he in jail?” Carol asked gently, touching Betty’s arm.

“I can’t talk about it,” Betty frowned. She turned away from Carol and stared out at the street. Her gaze was drawn to a blood puddle not far from where they were standing.

“And,” Betty said, “what about that …man? He just …”

“That was crazy. And if I never see such a sight again, it will be too soon.”

Sirens screamed in the distance. The cops or firetrucks or ambulances were drawing closer. Or as close as they could with all the debris scattered everywhere in the road and beyond. Or maybe they’d screech right on by to other disasters around the city.

“That was one helluva storm. Katrina? Maria? Helena? But in Toronto? What the fuck?”

“Global warming…” Betty said.

“Naw, that’s no global warming. And no, I don’t believe anyone is controlling the weather. At least not today! However, whatever was IN that storm, is an entity unto itself, literally.” Carol shuddered.

“What?”

“You saw the eye, right?”

“Isn’t it called The Eye of the Storm? Isn’t that kinda normal?” Betty asked.

“Not like that. Not in my lifetime. I’ve been nearly around the world for decades and never seen anything like that. Don’t know…”

“But it’s gone now…gone…like Bobby.” Betty sobbed.

“We’ll find him. Look, there are some cops over there, we can …”

“No, it’s worse than that. But I know he’s around here…I know it…I gotta try.”

“How do you know?”

“Where else could he be?”

Betty pulled her clothes together. Her wet hair stuck to her face, her eyes wild and staring. “I gotta go…you better get inside. Old folks like you can catch pneumonia.”

Betty hurried off down the street, jumping over branches and garbage.

Carol took one last drag on her joint.

“Gee, thanks.” She walked back to the sidewalk, only as far as it took to get back to her own building. She looked past the blood and bones, the clothes and garbage, the mud and rain…she hoped Lake Ontario hadn’t seeped into her building.

Do you want to read the first six chapters of Serial Vlogger without clicking dozens of links? Well, here ya go!

I compiled over twenty-five slices into six chapters and published it in paperback on the Zon so that you can enjoy the book without staring at the monitor.

This is Part One of Serial Vlogger. I call it a teaser edition since the book is the first six chapters.

If people seem to like the idea of reading the slices in print, I’ll publish Part Two when I have another six chapters finished.

Hot off the Press is my latest creation, THEATRE MACABRE!

THEATRE MACABRE is a short, small horror poetry collection based on The Theatre!

The book contains all brand new, original poetry and photography by Sèphera Girón, published by The Great Lakes Horror Company, with cover design by Dinis Freitas and formatting by Kody Boye.

I’m very proud of my first poetry collection and hope that you’ll pick it up! And actually, it’s my first photography collection for that matter! I took all the photographs and tinkered with them using Canva. It’s a first for me and I hope you like it!

It’s small and short and easy to fit into your pocket or purse for commuter reading! It makes a nice little gift for the upcoming gift-giving seasons!