Humor
Potato Person Pt. 1
There once was a peculiar person who lived in a shack. Day after day, morning became night and night became day. Neither sprouting nor deteriorating, the person did not receive enough sunlight. At the same time, the person ate through fruits, vegetables, and everything left in the shack by their great grandfather.
By Alina Luke3 years ago in Fiction
The Box Office
A box landed on my desk. It had been tampered with because I had seen the tape that had secured the box, had been sliced open with a sharp object. It was just a plain old box. The standard tan brown colour, no advertising, nothing extravagant about it. I turned it over to see if there was at least an address on it. Nothing.
By Jerome Smith-Pula3 years ago in Fiction
Herbert's Delivery
“That's it, to hell with these boxes!” Herbert shouted to no one. With one hand he carried the small box, and with his other he supported his c shaped back as he walked toward his trash can. “I don't know how many times I have to put this out here, when it's not my damned package.”
By Jordan Flynn3 years ago in Fiction
Folded In
One day while sitting at my apartment, I was kicking back in my seat. My neighbor Julie had stopped on by to hang out for the day. With a stack of chicken thighs in the oven and Minecraft YouTube videos playing on the TV, today was going to be a lazy day no matter how you spelt it. After a morning workout and having entered in a few more poems onto Vocal, I was exhausted even before it had already turned 09:00. Nothing was going to unglue from my place of comfort today.
By Thavien Yliaster3 years ago in Fiction
From Beyond The Grave
PASSING AWAY PARTY ‘I am running late. 10:30 to London Paddington is delayed due to the protests on fake jewels. You should be….’ Anjali heard the monotonous announcement on the train right before the conversation with her grandma ended abruptly. Her face was glistening with sweat, and her long black hair came out of her unruly braid. Her brown eyes shone with joy, and her dimples stood out as she could not stop smiling. She had been running around the house in frenzied excitement the entire morning, trying to get it ready for her grandpa’s passing away party. A fancy name for his first death anniversary. Today was exactly a year since Mr Moorthy’s passing away at the ripe age of 98. And he had requested that they have a party with games and all. She was looking forward to celebrating him with dozen of his close friends.
By Anu Sundaram3 years ago in Fiction
The Red Box
They were already late. Sally rushed the kids into their jackets at the door, while Mark was already outside scraping ice off the van. Christmas morning had been yet another whirlwind of tearing red and green paper, rushing to get all the presents opened before it was time for their annual tour: as always, Sally’s parents for lunch, Mark’s parents for dinner.
By Zack Duncan3 years ago in Fiction
Terrible, Horrible, Very Good Day
Waking up to the blaring alarm, I crawled out of bed. Shivering in the cold, I glanced outside at a blanket of snow. Shaking my head, cursing, and muttering, knowing this was going to be the start of a bad day. Stumbling through the kitchen calling Kane, my dog, as I go to let him out before I rush off to work. My toes found themselves slipping into a warm pile of something clearly made by an animal.
By joseph Comeau3 years ago in Fiction
Secret Satan
I was having my morning cup of coffee when I heard a high-pitched whine outside. Thinking it was the neighbor’s kids playing with their new Christmas toys, I went to the window to see what they had. I’d always wanted a flying toy when I was a kid. And while I knew there was nothing stopping me from buying one now, I didn’t want to deal with anyone staring at a grown adult playing with some flashy thing meant for a child.
By Elisabeth Allen3 years ago in Fiction
