His the Night | Short Story

No-one was quite sure what the lampman’s purpose was. They knew that he appeared on still nights when the fog swept up from the Avon and slicked the dark cobblestones. They knew that he was looking for someone or something, but his purpose? No-one could come up with a plausible explanation.

It was not as though the man was shy. His buckled boots sounded loud against the worn stone, and he was unabashed in leaning close in to the shop fronts and the street level windows, cupping his hands around his eyes to avoid his own reflection. A moment’s searching, and then moving on, the flame of his cruisie lamp guttering with his movement.

There were rumours, of course. Stories of a lost love, horse, master. Tales of being spurned, heartbroken, or just plain murderous. Children told tales of what happened if the man saw you, if he hears your breathing, or, god forbid, touches you. The older kids insisted that if he managed to get hold of someone, they were doomed to take his place or, in some of the more lurid retellings, dragged down to burn in hell alongside him.

The more weathered residents knew better. They knew to draw the curtains, to pull to blinds. They knew to lock their doors after dark, to wait, to leave well alone. They knew that his was the night, and theirs the day.

Enjoyed this? Sign up to my blog below. Written in response to Pensivity101’s Three Things Challenge. Recent short stories include ‘Feedback‘ and ‘Twelve Cans Beans‘.

Matthew J. Richardson’s fiction has appeared in publications including Golddust MagazineFlashback FictionClose to the BoneShooter, and Idle Ink. His work often explores psychological tension, place, and the quiet edges of human behaviour. He lives in Scotland and holds a Professional Doctorate in Education.


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13 thoughts on “His the Night | Short Story

  1. Ooh, I really like this, Matthew. There is a fine line of intrigue here, and a perfect illustration of how stories are borne – and, indeed, embellished – when a lack of understanding exists.
    And, then again, he may well be some nefarious character!
    Fine writing.

  2. I love how you tell just enough of the lamplighter’s story, but still leave room for the reader to come to their own conclusions. Me? I think this chap is a close cousin to the Headless Horseman. He can’t afford a horse, and still has a head on his shoulders, but these are minor discrepancies.😊

  3. but surely, similar to movie-goer’s apparent attraction to psychopathic protagonists, there is an element in your story that draws the Reader in, holding an attraction…

    damn! said too much

    enjoyable fiction

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