Tag: mystery

Bleachers

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I live under the bleachers.
They store the concession stands under here when the season’s over.
Of all the stands, I wouldn’t choose it, but it’s what I’ve got, and I’m happy for that.
I shower in the locker rooms, get food in the cafeteria.
At night, stray dogs roam around, looking for food.
I keep the stand closed and shuttered.
They paw at the door, even though there’s no food in here.
Besides me, I guess.
I could go home, but I kinda like it here under the bleachers.
And the students always know where to find the principal.

Donor

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Cheryl had put “Imagination and fingernails” on her organ donor card
It wasn’t easy to find, but tucked away, hidden behind her nightmares and dreams, there was her imagination.
“So fragile,” said the surgeon, and she gently lifted it out and put it on a ceramic dish.
Her assistant checked the national registry and found a match – an artist, skilled with a brush but without inspiration or the creative spark.
“Call them,” said the surgeon. “And have them ready by ten.”
The assistant nodded. “Anything else?” he asked.
“No,” said the surgeon, and she put the fingernails in her pocket.

Leon

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We keep Leon in a dark pit, sealed and guarded.
I don’t know how he eats.
I don’t know how he drinks.
I don’t know how he breathes.
Once, I wanted to let Leon out, but he refused to unlock the door to the pit.
“Leon doesn’t want to be let out,” said a guard, escorting me from the door.
“He has to come out eventually, I said.
“When he wants to, he will, said the guard, and I leave.
Leon’s been in there for a very long time.
For now, he’ll be staying there.
Even if it’s my turn.

Justice Soup

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We stood around the body, wondering who had killed the man.
So, I got out a can of alphabet soup, waved it over the corpse, poured it into a mug, and microwaved it.
When it was ready, I chanted the magic spell and threw the mug at the wall.
It shattered and splashed everywhere.
“Look!” gasped the police inspector.
The name of the killer was on the wall, spelled out in noodles for all to see.
“Simple divination magic,” I said. “Nothing to it.”
The killer was found, his bloody knife retrieved, and justice was done.
So, want some soup?

I Don’t Want To Sleep

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I don’t want to sleep.
Things are happening all over the world all the time.
If I sleep, something will happen, and I won’t know about it until I wake up again.
I’ve tried alarms based on news alerts and Google searches, but it’s so hard to find the right rules to use.
I sleep less and less every day, but that just makes me less and less alert when I am awake.
I miss just as much from being drowsy as I do being asleep.
So, I’ll sleep, and the world can go on without me.
Good night, everyone.

Pissed

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Ever gone into the woods to piss on a tree and the tree moves out of your way?
Yeah, you’ve got to be really drunk for that to happen, stumbling around and falling on your ass by the side of the road.
Except this time, I was stone cold sober.
Did I imagine that it had moved?
I walked over to the tree and…
It moved back to its original spot.
“Hello?” I said. “Is anybody there?”
Nobody answered.
I zipped back up and headed back to the car.
It was covered with tree sap.
Damn it!
Where’s my chainsaw?

Shoelaces

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“Your shoelace is untied,” says a voice.
I stop and look back.
Nobody’s there.
I hear this kind of thing all the time. Especially since the accident.
I was always bad about tying my shoelaces when I was little. Sure, I tripped a few times, but I learned to just tuck the laces in.
I liked loose shoes. Nice and relaxed.
So, when one came loose on the railway platform and I tripped over it, I was really surprised.
Train ran over my legs.
Yeah, there’s nobody behind me.
I turn back around and roll my wheelchair to the elevator.

Decadent

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The “Grenouille Congelée” is just an ordinary martini with an ice cube.
And inside that ice cube is a frog.
The ice cube is hollow, giving the frog a little room to move around.
It doesn’t move much. Frogs are cold-blooded and they hibernate at low temperatures, so if it moves at all, it’s going to be a groggy frog.
The cube melts easily.
Once the ice melts, the frog wakes up, and it crawls out of the glass.
An empty glass, usually, but if you’re slow to finish your drink, you may be in for a small green surprise.

Sinterklaas

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We put bandages on the wounds, but you can clearly read “Sinterklaas” in bloody red slashes through the gauze.
The wounds were deep, but not severe enough to kill him.
His breathing was ragged, moans of pain.
“Did you see who did this to you?” I asked the man.
His eyes remained dull and fixed as he coughed through his confession: “I did it to myself.”
He pulled a knife from his boot, dropping the bloody blade on the floor.
“Why?” I asked him.
“I’m bad,” said the man, “and he’s out of coal.”
Be good, little children.
Or else.

To The Orcs

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John’s house had a storm drain in the back yard.
To Billy, it was a tunnel to the great underground orc kingdom.
“They made it look like a storm drain to fool the surface-dwellers,” he said.
One day, Billy took a butcher’s knife and a flashlight down the drain.
“To glory and treasure,” read the note he left on the refrigerator.
He never came back.
The police asked questions, and John kept saying “The orcs got him.”
John spent a lot of time in therapy after that.
To this day, he’s always watchful, and he never goes near storm drains.