Bad Weather

He sat on the window seat, face pressed up against the glass. The window looked out across the road to the playground opposite. It was a hot, sunny day and gangs of children were playing there – running up and down the field, shrieking with delight on the swings and playing hide and seek in the small coppice beyond the slide.

Jimmy frowned. He wanted more than anything to be out there, running around, chasing after the other children, screaming with delight, but his mother had said no, not on a miserable day like this. Better wait til it was a nicer day – some dark grey clouds, drizzle, or some fog. Jimmy wished for winter to come soon, with the dark evenings drawing in so quickly – plenty of time to play then.

Sighing, he took one last sniff of the air, feeling his lips moisten at the delicious odour of their succulent flesh. He fluttered off the seat, wrapped himself in his cloak and went to the cellar to play in his coffin.

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