Free Short Story for My Readers!


The Buried House
By: Stephanie L. Robertson

They buried a house today.

I saw it happen. They took a big, noisy tractor with a long arm and clumsy hand which tore at the roof.

Timbers of the old rafters cracked as they split, broke right in two. The loud machine puttered into the front room where children played and families received guests. Glass, mottled with decades of grime and dirt, shattered into long slivers, breaking up and falling down. Each spindle on the porch broke one by one, cracking like match sticks. The family used to sit out on that porch and watch people walk down that old dirt road. The one that ran from east to west in front of the house.

Children walked that road to the old school, a mile away. Mules and horses left their tracks in the dust. Wagons ambled through on the way to town. Then cars came. Then one day it was paved. And then one day they made it a two-lane with speed limits to slow those fast-moving cars, zipping between the two towns.

The yellow machine puttered and rumbled on. Planks split from the walls and fell to the ground like strips of paper. An entire wall came down with a crash and the sound of tinkling glass.

For years—yes, for decades—the house has been sinking into the ground, all on its own. It sank right into the earth ‘til all one could see was the top third of the house—the top of the front door, the windows, and so forth.

I had sat in that front parlor, waiting for Danny to come for me. Irene was playing our old upright piano. She so looked forward to her own parties and high school banquet days. Days of chiffon and carnations. She was playing some familiar tune such as The Tennessee Waltz. Whatever was popular. Some of the keys stuck down, but she played on.

Mother dried her hands on her apron and pointed to my room—mine and Irene’s. I was to go there to wait for Danny. It was not proper for a young lady to look too anxious, when waiting for her gentleman. Let him wait for you. Never mind that he had met Father three dates ago. Go on, now. Wait in there.

My ears strained for the sound of his daddy’s old Plymouth. A door slammed. Heavy footsteps on the porch and a loud banging on our door. Angry voices from the next room. Not Danny; why was my old beau, Ben, here? I thought my father had thoroughly explained to him to not come around anymore. I rubbed invisible bruises on my arms and shivered at the memory but then ran out of my room when I heard shots fired. He was there. A crazed look in his pale eyes. My father was down. Irene no longer played her waltz. And where was Mother?

“If I can’t have you, no one will!” he screamed at me and fired that final shot which pierced my heart.

I never found out what happened to my family.

And you can’t sell a house that has been stained by blood. They can clean it and scrub it ‘til there’s no trace of the crimson, but they can’t get it out of the house. Really, they can’t. They tried. Oh, yes, they tried. But the house was tainted, and no one would buy it.

The machine’s hand grasped the chimney and let it go. Bricks tumbled over the ground like a child’s toy blocks. The roof gave way. The machine’s giant arm pushed the end wall, and the house was finally in its grave.

Dust filled my nose with filth and decay.

Why did they bury the house? For sixty years, it has set there, not bothering anyone. They could have left it to sink on into the ground on its own. ‘Til no one could see it. ‘Til it sank beneath that red clay all on its own. It would have buried itself, I know.

They buried a house today.

It’s my house.

I have lived here for years.

And I will live here forever.

Copyright 2014 by Stephanie L. Robertson

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Stalking Stamos

I see the Westin!

I see the Westin!

Facebook is a-buzz with sightings of John Stamos, one of the stars of 80’s hit TV show, “Full House.”

Stamos was in town to perform with the Beach Boys last night at the Von Braun Civic Center.

Thanks to FM and her hubs (pictured left) for the great concert photos!!

Thanks to FM and her hubs (pictured left) for the great concert photos!!

It’s not often that celebrities come into town that get the 35+ crowd in a tiz.

So I had to go to Atlanta Bread Company to interview a man for a article, and I’m kicking myself for not saying, “Hey…Why not let’s meet at the Westin.” That’s where Stamos was allegedly staying.

I got all of this Stamos info from FB posts. My friend, FM, went to the concert. One friend posted a picture of JS, standing by her hubs.

Another friend posted that JS Tweeted that he was hanging out by some “Alabama Stream.” How quaint. But I highly suspect that the alleged stream was either the man-made canal at Bridge Street—outside of the Westin—or the man-made canal outside of the VBCC, where the guys performed. I doubt that they drove JS somewhere outside of town prior to his concert.


So I decided that all I needed to set my writing career a-blast is to have a celebrity endorsement.

Therefore, I went to the Westin to seek Stamos.

I can just see it… I give JS my business card. He downloads my short story, The Buried House, from Smashwords. He reads it on his flight back to wherever celebs go. “Brilliant! Brilliant!!” He tells his people, it becomes a Lifetime movie, and yada-yada, I’ve arrived! Published and proud.

So after my interview, Princess Buttercup and I schlep it on over to the Westin. But what would I say if I saw the guy? Would I address him as John? Mr. Stamos? Uncle Jessie? Or just Jess?

The Westin Hotel at Bridge Street.

The Westin Hotel at Bridge Street.

I decide to climb to the penthouse suite.

I decide to climb to the penthouse suite.

It's good...I've got this!

It’s good…I’ve got this!

On the ledge.

On the ledge.

Almost there.

Almost there.

And over the ledge to the balcony I go.

And over the ledge to the balcony I go.

I see Stamos!

I see Stamos!

Stamos and the Beach Boys.

Stamos and the Beach Boys.

I think I finally spotted JS, talking on his phone and cleverly disguised as a geek. Yep. That was definitely him. I mean, what a great disguise…in Huntsville, engineers are like bunnies. They’re everywhere, so the geek get-up would definitely blend.

Yep, I’m sure it was him. He was wearing black-rimmed glasses, a baseball cap, a t-shirt, and was talking on his phone.

By that time, I was too tired to take the trouble to introduce myself. Instead, Princess Buttercup and I went to Chick-Fil-A. Celebrity-chasing is hard work.

Uncle Jesse!

Uncle Jesse!

P.S. The Banana Republic cashier said that one of his waitress friends served Stamos soup last night. Woot-woot! I got the scoop!

P.P.S. Thanks to Princess Buttercup for her photography skills. I couldn’t not have taken these silly shots without her!

Books that I am Reading Now

I invariably have library fines at any of the four libraries that I frequent. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t take spending money lightly. (Who does, now-a-days!) But at least the money goes to supporting the libraries.

Here is a list of books that I’m either reading or ones that are stacked on a table, ready for me to read when I have a spare minute:


I’ve read this a million times and it’s on my Kindle. I’m only reading parts of it right now to study her outstanding character development and descriptors.


I’ve read this several times. There are places in the book where the characters’ morals and mine clash, but I like this one because of its intrigue!



I love reading about Tony Dungy and his family. Tony Dungy is a great family man and a devoted Christian husband.



Motivational books that I’m reading to keep me on track with my writing.

Always looking to learn how to improve my writing and my semi-technical knowledge.

Happy 4th of July!


After a busy week of VBS, we are ready to chill out on Independence Day, tomorrow. We plan to hang out with my parents for lunch and then go to our church family’s parking lot party tomorrow evening.

A few years ago, we started meeting in the church’s parking lot, with lots of food and soda, to celebrate the 4th and watch the town’s fireworks. It was great! It was like one big block party with lots of watermelon, homemade ice cream, and brownies. Now it’s kind of a tradition.

How do you celebrate July 4th? 🙂

Perfect day.  Low humidity!

Perfect day. Low humidity!

Starlight lily is blooming!

Starlight lily is blooming!