The Curious Incident That Happened In Maine
Farmer Claude and his dog Skippy would often go out at the same time in the evening to lead the cattle from the pasture back to the barn
American horror writer Stephen King owned a small farm in the state of Maine.
Although he didn’t farm there or live there, he occasionally visited the place a few weeks a year to write in the small guest room inside the farm house.
On a neighbouring farm a few miles away lived a farmer named Claude and his wife Doreen.
King had met Claude and Doreen on a few occasions when he had had coffee ☕️ in the small town coffee shop not far from their respective farms.
On this particular evening Claude had gone out to bring the cows from pasture home to the barn.
Like he did every night around this time.
The farm collie dog Skippy skipped along beside him.
Skippy always seemed to be a dog rather light on his toes.
Had Skippy been a male human child in the public school system, his teachers most likely would have tried to convince him that he was gay given the fact that he was so light on his toes.
While Skippy skipped alongside Farmer Claude as the old farmer whistled the tune to that old Australian outback song Waltzing Matilda, a distant shaking and rumbling on the ground could be felt.
The cows, who had been contentedly chewing their cud in the pasture, stirred uneasily.
The bull, who had been standing there contemplating which one would be the lucky cow tonight, turned his head and horns in the direction from which the sound and shaking was coming.
The bull then turned and ran.
You knew something awful was coming when a bull turns and runs the other direction.
The cows started mooing a mournful dirge like a Greek chorus in a Greek tragedy 🎭 when something awful was about to happen on stage (and we’re not talking about Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez playing the role of Troy’s Queen Hecuba).
Farmer Claude stopped, spit out his chewing tobacco against a nearby sunflower 🌻 and pondered the scene that lay before him.
The cows were mooing like there was no tomorrow, there was a running bull (which reminded Claude of a U.S. Presidential Debate for some reason) in the field, the bluebirds (in a nearby apple tree) suddenly realized that they were far from the white cliffs of Dover and then an eerie silence fell across the land.
“Choo! Choo! Chug-a-chug-chug! Chug-a-chug-chug!” The sinister mechanical voice of a steam engine train locomotive 🚂 merged with a giant monster blob head 🦠 , that was walking on huge green monster hind legs, could be heard as it approached the field.
Slek the monster from Hell had arrived on a farm not far from Bangor, Maine.
There were no survivors.
-A Stephen King style
Horror Short Story
Written by Christopher
Friday June 14th
2024.
Dracul Van Helsing 
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