© Bruce Goodman 21 April 2023
Raelene was beside herself when her wall clock struck thirteen. And it was only seven in the morning. Why did it strike thirteen? Thirteen is meant to be an unlucky number. It’s impossible, mechanically, for a chiming clock to strike thirteen… Unless of course unless the clock is possessed.
It was definitely going to be an unlucky day. She had planned to go with the ladies of the local Horticultural Society in a van to view prize gardens in the area. They did that once a month. They would use Helmy’s van, with Helmy driving. It was more a social get-together. A garden visit was followed by a coffee, a slice of cake, and a gossip.
Raelene phoned up to say she wasn’t going to make it this time. Something had cropped up. She intended, although she didn’t say, to stay at home on this unlucky day and tidy her own backyard.
That was when she slipped, fell own a bank at the back of her house, and broke her leg.
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