More Tales from the Sofa

Hi there. It's me again, the neighborly Naugahyde, the ambassador of ass-sittery...Stuart's sofa.

I'm back to tell you about more exciting, thrilling tales from my viewpoint, the astoundingly rich life I live by servicing Stuart's hiney while he...while he...sob...writes...all day long.

My life's a lie!

A sad, dull lie. All day long, all week long, Stuart's rear-end punishes me as he sits, unmoving, excepting his fingers flying across the keyboard.

Oh, sure, there were the three months when Stuart's daughter moved in and her dogs abused me by jumping all over my hide and tearing my skin. Yeah, it hurt like crazy, but, hey, at least their rowdiness provided welcome variety.

Of course there was that one dizzying day when I got tipped on my side and moved toward the back door while the carpet was cleaned. I nearly hurled, but by God, man, I got to look outside! I think I saw a bird! (They're furry creatures with long tails, right?) Then, like yesterday's Arthur Treacher's fish-bones, I was tragically banished back to my original spot beneath Stuart's arse. 

The carpeting gets more respect than me.

I've said it before, I'll say it again, watching someone write is about as thrilling as watching golf on TV. I mean, at least on golf programs people walk, apparently a chore too exhausting for Stuart.

Well, wait, Stuart did have a little excitement the other day. He received a phone call, for once not from his mother.

"Hello," he answered tentatively, hermit that he is.

The woman on the other end spoke in an Asian language, her words frantic and rushed.

"Um, I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number," Stuart said.

Her voice rose in panic, clearly terrified, her words indecipherable.

"Ma'am, are you okay? Maybe you should hang up and I'll call 911 or..."

Suddenly, the line went dead. There may've been a brief shriek beforehand. 

And Stuart--the great indoorsman, the ultimate man of inaction--nearly rose off my tired body, forced into doing something. 

Anything!

"Nahhh," he said. 

He sat back down and scribbled some notes, determined to turn this call into a future thriller.

Sigh. Welcome to my life, such as it is...

And welcome to the haunted town of Gannaway, Kansas! "Ghosts of Gannaway has some truly scary scenes, it is the slow boil suspense that gets under the skin. I'll be reading more of Stuart R. West!"
-Tom Deady, Bram Stoker Award-winning author of Haven