He Can Taste Your Fear

I CAN’T BELIVE IT. Mrs Catherine Dervish stropped into the living room. “Take a look at the window, darling.” She shrugged to her husband, Mr Elliot Dervish. Mr Elliot Dervish was a gloomy man and spent much of his time sitting on his arm chair watching old soaps. He followed his wife’s out stretched hand which pointed at the front window. Oh no!
He was accustomed to his wife’s wild outbursts; after all they had been married for sixty years. But the last week she was spending a lot of time staring out of the front window. She swore that she had seen weird people outside their home, just standing there like zombies. As she carried on, Mr Dervish put up the volume trying to ignore her.
“Are you listening to me?”
He nodded, then continued watching his show. She’s starting to look like a zombie, he thought. Her lips were much paler now, and her eyes were wider. “Will it make you happy if I look out of the window?”
She smiled and waited for him to do what he had asked. As he walked to the window, Mr Elliot Dervish tried to remember the conversation he had had with his local doctor. “What can I do?” he had asked his doctor.
“I’m sorry there is nothing you can do, she is going through a late spell of depression. It’s common for woman of your wife’s age.”
Now as he opened the curtain, he gasped in shock. The whole town was standing outside of his home. A crowd was forming and the towns MP, Mr Johansen Rockets was right in the front with them. What the hell is going on here!
He turned to tell his wife, when he noticed she was sitting on his arm chair, which frustrated him even more. “I’m sorry for doubting you,” he said coldly. Sorry was not one of his favourite words, in fact he had only said it three times during their entire marriage.
“What should we do?”
“I don’t know. But one thing is for sure, I’m going to tell them to leave.”
She was surprised her husband was taking control. The only thing he could control was the television remote. She rooted wifely applauses for him as he bullishly walked out of the room like a wild bull. He took a last glance at his wife and mouthed I’ll be back. Then laughed, shaking his head. God, he knew he was funny. He asked the towns MP what he was doing outside his home, but he never spoke. The whole crowd stood silent and after a few seconds, he found himself being hoisted up by the crowd. What are you doing to me?
Then the chanting started. “He can taste your fear!”