Sunday Morning, Holcomb Kansas

Another December Short Story

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“Not like her to oversleep,” said Sue. “Especially on a Sunday.”

“Well, I suppose we’d better go in,” said Nancy. “It looks like they all might be sleeping.”

Sue had a strange feeling as she knocked on the kitchen door. Mr. Clutter and Kenyon were always up early on a Sunday, though Mrs. Clutter usually stayed in her bedroom.

Nobody answered. She knocked again.

“Maybe Mr. Clutter and Kenyon went into town early for some reason,” said Nancy.

“His truck is in the carport. Should we go in?”

The door was unlocked. Nancy saw the telephone was torn out from the wall, its wires trailing like broken legs. The kitchen clock ticked, the only sound in the house. An opened bottle of milk stood on the counter.

“Hello?” called Sue. “Anybody home? We’re going to be late for church.”

There was no answer.

Neither girl wanted to go upstairs.

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