Jeph

 

Let’s call him Jeph, after Internet Jeph.

I don’t know where he came from, or how old he was, only that he appeared in my yard one morning very clearly long-deceased.

But, there was something regal about Jeph, even in death. If any desiccated corpse deserved a few dignified words and to be made into an awkward shrine…it was Jeph.

Please bow your heads in silence.

“We have gathered here today, to send our friend Jeph triumphantly into whatever Valhalla opossums go to after a life well lived and a death unavoidable.

All Hail Jeph.

May he rest in pieces.”

Cough

 

He heard the coughing of children the very first time he walked into the empty house.

It was a beautiful old home, and he bought it without a second thought.

But his friends and family refused to even visit him.

The ghosts of the children were too creepy.

He looked up the historical records, and there was his house, an orphanage during the flu epidemic of 1918.

With his head in his hands, he said aloud, “I didn’t know I was buying a haunted house.”

A tiny whisper in his ear, “Dude. We coughed at you the very first day.”

Boring

 

“What a treat to be a boring old lady” she thinks to herself, eating a container of yogurt for breakfast before taking her morning pills and getting her shower.

She turns the water on and then scans the shower stall.

“Where is he today?” she asks out loud and then spots the treefrog clinging to the shower head. “That’s not gonna work, buddy” she says, picking him up. He hops from her hand to her arm and then onto her face. “Come on, Theodore.  Act normal” she chides, setting him on the ledge so she can take her boring shower.

Rivalry

 

The ancient terrier sleeps, the treasure tucked under her chin. After a while, she turns onto her side, and the treasure rolls quietly away.

In the living room, the young dog’s ears perk up, and he stealthily creeps into the bedroom.

He grabs the treasure and returns to the sofa.

When the terrier wakes up, she frantically searches till she spies the treasure in between her rival’s stork legs. He winks at her, smugly.

She bides her time around the corner till he gets up to get a drink.

When he returns, both the terrier and the treasure are gone.

 

Bookworm

 

She had set up her camp a little back from the edge of the drop-off, because the view was incredible.

Her dinner had been simple, and she kept the fire going for company.

With her back up against a towering pine tree, she opened her book in the afternoon sunshine.

She was almost finished, and it was building to an exciting ending.

But the birds were singing and the breeze caressed her to sleep.

She woke with a start, and her book tumbled over the cliff, catching on an exposed root just beyond her reach.

“Dammit. I hate a cliffhanger.”

Fair

 

He remembered the Fair as being magical when he was a kid, but it was dirty and hot and there was a pervasive smell of animal poop and greasy food.

He decided to have a good time, since his kids really did think it was magical.

He gazed lovingly at his boys, all sticky with deep-fried rubber cement faces, and each holding a baggie with a stuffed toy in it. He’d spent almost $50 throwing darts at goldfish to get them.

On their way out, he took a photo of them saddled up on chickens, grinning from eye to eye.

Auction

 

They ran them through in groups of five or six, nervous little creatures that skittered into the holding pen, and then bolted out as soon as the auctioneer hollered, “Sold!” and the gate was opened.

She watched, not interested, until…

A group skittered in, but one stayed hunched over instead of pacing back and forth. Looking closely, she saw them, the tiny feet underneath the furry body. This one had babies, and they were expecting her to keep up with the rest. The mother’s eyes rolled with fear and before she knew it, her hand was in the air.

“Sold!”