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    Feeding Time
    Feeding Time
    Feeding Time
    Ebook41 pages40 minutes

    Feeding Time

    By Joseph Sweet

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A man suffering from insomnia witnesses a brutal kidnapping and rushes to try and help, feeling that there is no time to call the police and too little information to help. What he finds is far more terrifying than anything he could have imagined.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJoseph Sweet
    Release dateJun 28, 2013
    ISBN9781301660179
    Feeding Time
    Author

    Joseph Sweet

    Joseph Sweet was born October 31 1976, and has been writing seriously since the age of sixteen. He currently lives in the upstate NY community of Watertown. Aside from writing he plays guitar and keyboard, writes and sings his own songs, and is an amateur photographer. He has worked in Television and radio doing voices and making and editing commercials, played in several bands, and acted in theater, but his greatest passion is and always has been his writing.

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      Book preview

      Feeding Time - Joseph Sweet

      Feeding Time

      by Joseph Sweet

      SMASHWORDS EDITION

      *****

      PUBLISHED BY

      Joseph P. Sweet and Forsaken Press

      Copyright © 2006-2013 Forsaken Press and Joseph P. Sweet. All rights reserved.

      No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, or internet posting without written permission from Forsaken Press, or the Author, except for review purposes, or that deemed fit by the author for promotion. All persons, places, and organizations mentioned herein, except those clearly in public domain, are fictitious. Any similarities to any persons, places, or organizations, living, dead, undead, or otherwise, is purely Coincidental.

      Forsaken Press

      http://www.forsakenpress.co.nr

      forsakenpress@gmail.com

      This story is recommended for ages 18 and up.

      *****

      Greg looked down on the busy street below. The large window in the front side of his apartment allowed him just enough space to sit comfortably. He was often surprised by the steady traffic. Watertown New York didn’t seem like all that big of a place, and yet, here on the second busiest street, just a couple of blocks from the square, it never ceased.

      It was calming in a way, that steady flow of cars and trucks. The sound, not unlike waves on the beach, was often what lulled him eventually into sleep.

      He was aware that someone in a nearby building may see him sitting there, silhouetted against the dim light from his apartment and think him a peeping-Tom, but he didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted. The opinion of strangers was really the least of his problems at the moment.

      He was having trouble sleeping. That usually meant that he was up late writing, but tonight he wasn’t able to do that either.

      If all went as usual, and he hoped it did, this would eventually end with him awakening, probably having drooled on himself, with a cramped neck and stiff body, but at least he would have gotten a few hours’ worth of sleep.

      On the heels of that thought, Greg’s attention was drawn to a woman walking down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. She was moving along fairly quickly eyeing the shadows for only milliseconds, head down the rest of the way as though she were trying to avoid eye contact with anyone who might happen to be watching.

      A car passed and slowed to a crawl.

      It stopped a few yards ahead of her.

      Greg’s heart seemed to skip a beat, his skin grew cold.

      The woman seemed to sense it as well. When the car pulled over, she’d slowed and almost stopped, meekly peeking upward at the vehicle and then putting her head back down and picking up her pace as though she intended to pretend it wasn’t there. It reminded Greg of some child afraid of what might be under his or her bed who hides beneath the blanket as though it were some sort of magical shield.

      Something was wrong here though.

      In his mind the vehicle, or the person driving it, took on a whole new almost predator status. He didn’t know exactly how someone could drive a car that would feel menacing, but this guy was doing it. And it was a guy. If his senses hadn’t told him that, the man stepping out of

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