by Blake N. Cooper
Granddad called it the "Old Smokey Oak." To most, it was a lump of firewood wasting space in the corner, but to me, it was the only place I felt safe. At night, I'd sneak downstairs, curl up in a ball and hide beneath the wooden fortress, hoping my humming would drown out the screams and crashing glass echoing through the walls from a distant room. The ghosts were relentless. When sunrise came, Granddad would be back to normal. Steadily positioned in the corner of the coffee-dark library, he'd resume his place behind that rugged oak, hunched over his typewriter, bleeding like Hemingway.
Blake N. Cooper is the creator and editor of ThinkingTen — A Writer's Playground. He lives in Seattle with his world, Emilia, and his mini-world, Siena Violet.