He sat staring at the digital clock on his desk.
It was late. He’d been there for an hour, probably longer. He knew it was rather childish, but he sat waiting for it to change; to move inexorably to the witching hour. He held his breath as it reached 11:59. As a kid he’d learnt that at midnight certain things began; all the demons, hobgoblins, ghosts and all kinds of horrible monsters were suddenly active, more powerful… more of a threat to mortals. His grandad had told him about such things. Much to his mother’s annoyance, he would tell tales of strange things occurring at this time. One of his favourites was the story about grandma’s photo.
The way he told it, he had the photo on his bedside table from the time she’d passed away. On this particular night, just before midnight, of course, he was sitting on the edge of his bed when he heard a rattling noise. It was the picture’s frame vibrating. When he looked at her face, she nodded her head slightly and winked! He remembered how the old man would pause after the nodding part, so they could say that she winked together! It was all in good fun really, but mum found it spooky. He sat smiling at the thought of his grandad making the whole thing something you could laugh at. That had probably not been such a bad thing…
Then, after several minutes of reverie, with a silent flicker, the screen changed to 12:00.
