Moving Day (standard:science fiction, 1169 words)
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Aug 04 2005	Views/Reads: 4353/2506	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A short story set in Suffolk UK; what seems to be a straightforward couple of miles move develops unforeseen complications

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


Thump, thump, miss-a-beat thump – he ran from the house, revved the
engine high and raced it the couple of hundred yards to the one village 
phone box – 

Out of order. 

What sort of place was this. 

He spun full circle, headed back towards Aldeburgh and the nearest
working phone, not heeding the simple fact that he needed to be careful 
– he'd been having dizzy spells for some time and not getting round to 
having it sorted out, and this was becoming one of them. His head had 
started to turn like a wheel gathering momentum, but anti-clockwise it 
seemed. Despite his desperation to get to the bottom of his growing 
nightmare he was forced to concede, to pull off the road onto the grass 
until it passed. 

The phone rang on the passenger seat where he'd dumped it. With glazed
eyes he reached out and picked it up, but the reception was as useless 
as ever. 

He swore, rested his head against the steering wheel, willing the
merry-go-round to stop and then dozed, perhaps just for a minute of two 
but there was some relief in that, for his dizziness seemed to have 
eased. 

He opened his eyes, narrow channels at first but they soon widened.
There was something not quite right, something odd, but with his 
depleted senses he was having difficulty figuring it. 

Before he could fathom what it was Julian saw two vehicles approaching.
The first was a black MG convertible and even before it was fully in 
view his heart played the big bass drum. The woman with long blonde 
hair and reflective shades was unmistakable, and close behind her was a 
large pantechnicon. 

She pulled across stopping just short of him, her tyres burning rubber,
while the van continued a short way then pulled up. 

Long legs emerged from the car as the woman sprang out, in just a few
strides she was beside his door, yanking it open – 

‘Julian what the hell are you playing at? We've been loaded up for an
hour waiting. What on earth possessed you to go driving –‘then her 
angular jaw softened along with her voice, ‘you haven't been having 
those funny turns, have you?' 

Julian was trembling and instantly Jodie perceived that he had. ‘Just a
couple,' he acknowledged, ‘what time is it?' 

‘Eleven am, why?' 

He shook his head, ‘No matter.' By the height of the sun he knew she was
right, and yet it couldn't be, when he left their home it had turned 
three. 

‘Right, that's it,' Jodie placed her arm round his shoulder and helped
him out, ‘Leave your car where it is and we'll collect it later. Then 
first priority Jules, you can see the doctor. This just isn't you.' 

Amidst the flood of relief in Julian Chesney's veins a question rose up
in a black tide. 

What was wrong with him. 

He must have left home early morning but he'd no recollection of it,
other than to him it had been afternoon. So, some kind of paranormal 
phenomena, or approaching insanity? As a novelist his mind was seldom 
in the same place as his body. So payback time, or something more 
sinister? 

He shuddered as Jodie's arm tightened around him. ‘Hey it's okay,' she
said, ‘we're going home.' 


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