A manuscript of short stories by Grannie Annie (These are stories I wrote for my children in the 80's when they were 10 and 11. They loved them.)
Her sleep was disturbed by thumping in the house. She was certain an intruder would appear any second. Pulling the covers over her head, the thumping grew louder. The intruder was getting closer. Suddenly the thumping stopped. Was he there standing over her bed watching her tremble? It was time for the covers to be jerked back and she would finally face his glaring,evil eyes and his smiling yellow teeth.
"Gawd!" She hated squatting by the side of the road. Her husband had ridiculed her for years about how silly this was and insisted she had led too sheltered a life.
Today he had given in to her whimpering and had driven until he spotted an enclosed toilet behind an abandoned filling station on the desert highway.
The brambles that covered the path to the outhouse grabbed and pulled at her legs mockingly. She stared down the path at her husband waiting in the car. She knew he thought she was crazy to enter this creaky, dirty old structure. She wasn't thrilled with the idea, but at least she would be shielded from public view for this private act.
Her husband waited five minutes before calling to her. He waited another five before starting up the path. He rapped at the door. No response. He pulled at the rotten wood. The door stuck tight. Something seemed to be holding it from the inside.
"Honey, are you okay? Come on open up. Let me in."
The husband felt a strong mixture of irritation and fear. He gave a final determined jerk. The door flew open and the man stared at a dark chasm. Before the startled husband could run, a rushing sucking sensation overcame him and he disappeared into the dark hole.
Next Saturday JUNE BUGS