The Terrible Case of Mr. Spoxal
When a blood-curdling scream rose up and spread its horror throughout the neighbourhood, no-one expected it to be Mrs. Spoxal, the grocer’s wife. Millie and Sandra, who were staying with their aunt in Launceston, climbed from their beds, pulled back the curtains, took a moment for their eyes to adjust, then squished their faces against the window. They tried to look down the street, where the neighbours were all running.
‘Just open the window,’ Millie said with her sister breathing down her neck, but Sandra only pushed in tighter.
Millie’s nose was touching the old wooden window frame and was certain she heard a crack in the glass.
‘Here,’ she said pulling back, and Sandra almost fell over, ‘I’ll open it and if you do that again, you’ll fall out.’
Millie unlatched the window because she was the only one who knew how to work the latch. They stuck their heads outside and looked down the street from their upstairs bedroom.
‘What do you thinks going on?’ Sandra asked.
‘Don’t know but look at Mr. Chalmer’s run.’
They were quietly laughing when their aunt opened their door and they pulled their heads inside real fast.
‘What do you thinks goin’ on girls?’ Aunt Millie asked and squeezed in between them. ‘Couldn’t get a good look from my room.’
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