Sixteen O'clock

 

She counted the chimes in her sleep.

The old clock was part of the background music of her life, comforting in its quarter-hourly announcements.

As it struck twelve, she stirred, uneasy.

Her eyes flew open as it kept going.

Thirteen.

Fourteen.

Fifteen.

Sixteen.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Not again.

Holding her breath, she braced herself.

 The whispers started under the bed, followed by tiny footsteps that marched across the floor, up the walls and across the ceiling.

One by one, they dropped onto the bed and skittered around frantically until blessedly,

The clock chimed a single chime, and all was quiet.

Mom

 *Ding* Text message from mom.

“I need a ride to the grocery store.”

*Ding* Text message from daughter.

“I’m kind of busy right now.”

*Ding* Text message from mom.

“It’s OK. I was busy, too, when I went into 20-hours of labor with you.”

*Ding* Text message from daughter.

“Wow. On my way.”

*Ding* Text message from daughter’s boss.

“Finish up yet?”

*Ding* Text message from daughter.

“Five minutes.”

*Huge explosion*

*Sound of distant sirens*

Daughter- “OK. Get in the car.”

Mom- “Oh, shoot. I forgot my grocery list.”

*Sound of approaching sirens*

Daughter- “Forget the list. We gotta go.”

Winter

 

He hated the fall time change. Hated that for four months of the year, he did chores in the dark before work and chores in the dark after work.

Every night it seemed to get darker sooner, and his mood was as black as 6:30pm in December.

He caught the shadows out of the corner of his eye while walking to the barn. Probably just coyotes at the edge of the forest.

Leaving the barn, the shadows were larger and closer, and he found himself running back to the house.

He slammed the door behind him, gasping and hating winter.

Holiday Village

 

“You’re going to love this little town!” her friend told her. “It’s so much fun!”

They found a parking spot, which was difficult because most of them were full.

Walking down the street, she asked, “Where are the people from these cars?” since the sidewalks were deserted.

The candle shop had a fine selection of candles and incense and ghosty/witchy things even though it was the end of November.

The tiny bookstore had one aisle. All horror books.

The bar was empty. No customers. No bartender. But the door had been open.

“Fun” she said, as the ravens closed in.

 

Theodore

 

“I’d like to offer my services.”

The voice was small, but very precise and polite.

It was coming from a ledge in her bathroom, where she’d thought she was alone.

After a moment, she located the speaker; a small green treefrog above the window.

“What services?” she asked.

“My name is Theodore, and I am a world class insect exterminator.”

“That’s as may be, but I already have Francis the wolf spider, to do that for me.”

The treefrog was silent.

“Where is Francis?” she inquired, after a brief glance around the bathroom.

“I accept the job” Theodore said, smugly.

Dream

 

The co-workers were chatting companionably.

“Ever have one of those dreams where you dream you are doing something, and when you wake up, you’ve really done it?”

“Ugh. I remember peeing in a dream, and when I woke up my bed was wet.”

They both shuddered.

“Anyway, I had a ragged thumbnail that I didn’t trim before bed, and dreamt that I kept biting at it but couldn’t get it even or smooth.”

“Wow. That’s crazy. Good thing it was just a dream.”

Pause.

“Ummm, what happened to your thumb?”

“Nothing” she said, hiding her bandaged stump in her pocket.

 

Hercules

 

The old red dog sat and watched serenely.

His humans were building something to put up on the porch. They said it was a “heated doghouse” for wintertime, so his old bones would stay warm.

They assembled it and set it in place, right in front of an electrical outlet to plug the heating pad into.

“See?” his mom said, luring him into it. “Nice and cozy!”

He exited as quickly as was polite and went to make himself a nest in the barn, as usual.

The last time he got into a box, he came home without his testicles.