The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

If the barn could talk…  
by Alex Grehy

Before the developers came to demolish, burn and build,

a local reporter asked, “If the barn could talk, what stories

might it tell?”

.

Conservationists picked up the theme, “What if,” they said,

“Our past has seeped into the red cedar walls, greying shingles

and hard dirt floor?”

.

The archaeologists came up with a plan, “If it has to come down,

let us take it apart nail by nail, learning with love and respect

over the next ten years.

.

The realtors replied, “The past is not held in this heap of junk,

reminisce with the farmer, but let us get on, the people need

our new homes.” 

.

But the farmer was dead, his city children moved on with the

cash from the sale; the interested parties came up with a plan,

called in a spirit guide.

.

The shaman arrived under glowering skies, told everyone to go

back to town, “Most spirits are shy and will not talk when there

are strangers around.”

.

He pulled open the door and coughed as chaff flew in the breeze,

the spirit of corn, reaped over the years, overwhelmed him with

dreams of the sun.

.

He stumbled out to the fields and listened, appalled, as the 

barn told its tales to the sky, which roiled and churned with

its evil intent.

.

“I am made of dead trees; do you think they were pleased

to be felled? Do you think the clay of my shingles asked to

be torn from the earth?”

.

“Do you think that the animals slaughtered here gave their

lives voluntarily? Do you think that the farmer was ignorant

of his wife’s infidelity?”

.

“Do you think that this story, as old as mankind, of lust and

betrayal and cold, hard revenge, was not enacted within

my walls?”

.

The shaman convulsed on the ground, clapped his hands 

on his ears, not wanting to hear more malevolent tales, but

the pitiless barn talked on.

.

“She brought her lover here to roll in the hay, their sin was

delicious but I wanted more; the ploughshare that fell put

an end to his fun.”

.

“She screamed so loud her husband came by, saw the scene

and imagined the rest, I put the pitchfork within reach of his

vengeful hand.”

.

“With blood seeping into my floor, my spirit grew bold; I 

offered a beam and a coil of rough rope, and so

the farmer hung.”

.

“There have been many more, this jinx springs from

deep in the earth. Demolish, destroy me and build on my

roots – it will not banish the bane.”

.

The shaman crawled towards town, but lightning ignited the 

stubble, burned the barn then his body to ash, and his warnings 

went untold.

.

The last I heard, they’d built a road, mall and houses, though 

construction fatalities were high, they named this cute modern

village “The Old Barn.”

.

Fiction © Copyright Alex Grehy
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More from author Alex Grehy:

After a lifetime of writing technical non-fiction, Alex Grey is fulfilling her dream of writing poems and stories that engage the reader’s emotions. Her work has been featured by a wide range of publications including Siren’s Call, Raconteur, Bookends Review, and Toasted Cheese. One of her comic poems is also available via a worldwide network of public fiction dispensers managed by French publisher, Short Edition. Her ingredients for contentment are narrow boating, greyhounds, singing and chocolate. It is a sweet life, yet Alex’ original view of the world has led to her best friend to say ‘For someone so lovely, you’re very twisted!

Please click here to discover more!