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Small Excerpt: They Don't Blink

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Trevon Johnson


Mrs. Riggs/ELA

Free Write: Fiction/Short Story

Small excerpt: They Don't Blink

Every night the Sibson's Nick-Knack Shack's lights go off at eleven, followed by doors and windows, and lastly, the chimney smoke. Frailen Samuels knows this because he lives across the street. He watches old man Sibson push everybody out at exactly eleven on the dot, locks the old wooden doors, and goes into the back of the shop, Frailen knows this because he watches. Know one will ever know what that sickly old man does behind that back door, and know one wanted to.

"Wood Finisher!" said Sibson excitedly. Sibson was an old man, probably around eighty-seven or ninety. He came to America from Germany during World War 2 as a refuge. He had an old quivery German voice, a voice that you knew sounded ill. A mix between Bronchitis, and a chain smokers cough. He was working on something. There was a paint brush in a glass cup filled with dirty colored water where the paint is washed off, wood, and an old rusty hammer. On the desk in front of him stood a small medium sized wooden figure, about two feet tall. It had tiny clothing on which appeared to be a small fitted suit like the ones you'd see in the 1940's, black loafers, and a black Ballard hat which had painted hair around the surroundings. The figure had a bright big smile, red lips like of the color of a rose, a short nose, and coal-black eyes. It short arms, and hands. There was a pull string on the back of his neck which moved his small opened mouth.

"Oh you will be a fine addition to my shop my little friend!" said Mr. Sibson.

He finished putting on the finisher and closed the door to go home. The figures mouth closed, and the candle to the right of it went out and room went dark.

Frailen locked the door behind him, and stepped out into the beautiful fall morning air. The wind whistled loudly like a large Red Whistling Duck. He walked down passed the store and looked inside, and saw the figure sitting on a stand in the front window. He stopped at the window and looked at the figure, a wave of excitement hit Frailen and he ran into the store. A little bell went off as he opened the door and he walked to the front counter. "Can I help you young man?" said Sibson from behind the counter.

"Yes sir, I was wondering how much the Ventriloquist dummy in the window is" SAID Frailen in a low, shy voice.

"I'm sorry young man, but he's not for sale. You see he brings spirit to my shop, and he's just there for looks. It is a shame though that Frank will never live out his purpose."




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