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THE MILLS OF JUSTICE Donna G. Brunger Fairview, Utah Non-Professional Division Honorable Mention #2 Short Story "Look! There's something black up in that tree. I saw it move! It's a witch!" "Oh shut up, George! It is not. If you're going to be a scarety-cat all night you better go home right now. We don't need any little kids along, anyway." It was Halloween night, 1905, in Milburn. Several of the young boys had managed to sneak out of their houses to have a little fun on October 31st. They planned to do a few tricks on the people and blame the witches and ghosts, who were supposed to be around having a big party. The boys thought Halloween superstitions were phony, but nevertheless they didn't like George suggesting he saw something unusual. They stayed close together as they made their way along the dirt road. "Look! There comes a ghost!" screamed George. "That's the last time! You get home, George." "Wait, Willy. I see something white too. It goes up, then down. It's on the righthand side of the road, then it moves to the lefthand side. It's coming straight towards us. Run for your lives!" "No!" shouted Frank, "Stay together. There's more protection. Get flat on the ground, over there behind that tall sagebrush. Hurry!" They probably set a new record for a twenty-five yard dash. The white figure was almost by them. Little George was so frightened he could hardly breath. He wished he had stayed home. He listened. The crisp night air was suddenly filled with a sound. It sounded like running hoofs on the dusty road. The next instant the object was right beside them. Suddenly, a terrible roar rocketed through the stillness. -34- |
