Ama's Bedtime Stories

 My great-grandfather met the Devil one night. At least that is what my Ama told me. He was walking home down a country road after a night spent gambling. Loose change jingling in his pocket. My great-grandmother was not going to be happy. She hated when he gambled. She hated when he cheated on her more than she hated the gambling so there was some small consolation. My great-grandfather could see the road ahead of him clearly since the moon was out. Roads back in that day didn't always have street lights, but the moon lit the way that night. What regrets did he have that night when all of a sudden he saw a long dark shadow in front of him. The shadow was of a very tall man. The shadow was enormous. It seemed to reach out to him. He never doubted who was in his path. My great-grandfather fell onto his knees and began praying loudly. He closed his eyes to blot out the sight before him and prayed and prayed and prayed. It felt like a lifetime when he was hit with the stench of sulfur. When he opened his eyes, the shadow was gone and only the smell remained like boiled eggs. 

Those are the kind of stories my grandmother would tell me at night. No sweet tales or happily ever afters. True accounts, scary stories, and sometimes stories that were awful for the sheer fact that they had actually happened to someone she knew.