“My entire collection hangs here,” Alistair said proudly, wiping an invisible speck of dust from the Indiana plate with a chamois. The hanging plates hung proudly from the ceiling with a wire-rack construction connecting them in vertical columns of eight. “I’ve done a lot of driving and vacationing to collect them all. Some I’ve traded by mail with other collectors, some I’ve recovered from junkyards and scrapheaps. A couple of plates came from car accidents. At this point, I’m short just three states.”
Sheila snapped a couple of more close-ups, and nodded, stifling a yawn behind the license-plate collector’s back. The recorder captured every detail for the blog, but honestly, she could not wait for some real assignments. These pure puff pieces were killers.
“Which three states are you still missing?” Sheila led with another question.
“I’ve got a colored states map downstairs in the basement, let me show you.” The basement door creaked as Alistair slowly pulled it open. Thumping and muffled screams arose from the darkness. Alistair quickly slammed the door and blocked it with his body.
“Perhaps not right now,” he stammered. “Isn’t the car out front yours? The blue Honda with Wyoming plates?”
197 words. Inspired by this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt:
14 thoughts on “He covets. That is his nature.”
Perhaps he sharpens the edges of the plates so they are like razors. Perhaps he does this in front of them while she is strapped to the table, using a grindstone that throws a cascade of sparks. Perhaps he tests the edge on he arm and asks he if she thinks it’s sharp enough. Perhaps he grins and says “The sharper it is, the better it is.” But he doesn’t answer the question’ better for whom?
Good for shaving, of course. Our clean-cut boy.
It puts the lotion in the basket or it gets the hose again.
I’m thinking if she sticks around she’ll get a bigger story than she imagined. Or maybe she’ll become the story…
Or maybe she can trade her coveted license plates for freedom…if she’s silly enough to not run like hell.
Creepy! I love creepy. Sounds like he needs Wyoming plates…
Well, it is a low-population state. WY plates would be among the more rare…but I confirm nothing 😛
You’re right, they are low population and the plates would then be rare. I think he was thinking about throwing her into the dungeon when he was “reminded” it was already full. Hahaha!
I was not expecting that ending at all! Very creepy indeed, and I am guessing Alistair did not throw her in there because he already had someone locked up.
That would depend on how many his basement can accommodate, I guess, Probably more worried over losing his element of surprise, maybe?
I don’t think she should have been neighborly and started this conversation! Some people should just be nodded at and then move on!
And some should be pushed down their own staircase and fled from.
Creepy! I hope Shiela manages to get away with her life – though maybe not with her license plates. 🙂
The fate of the plates appears tied to her own…that’s what you get for coming from WY.