Trick or Treat

The three children approached the house and knocked on the door, their unconvincing, cheap supermarket "horror" costumes showing they'd put the absolute minimum amount of thought into the whole operation.
A man dressed as a wizard opened the door.
"Yes?"
"Trick or treat!" the children beamed.
The wizard looked at them with one eyebrow raised.
"Really? You've made no effort at all."
"Yes we have!" one of them claimed, knowing the wizard was actually spot on.
"Here," said the wizard handing them one rotten apple.
"What's this?"
"It's me putting as much thought into my treats as you have into your costumes."
The door slammed in their faces.

Cure

He wasn't well, not well at all. He'd been bitten and he needed the antidote, but he was delirious.
"What is it?" his assistant asked as he crawled into the tent.
"An...ant...an..."
"What are you trying to say?"
"Ant...ote."
"What?"
"An...ote."
"Anecdote?"
The ill man appeared to nod.
His assitant started: "There was this one time at the conference when we all..."
The ill man headed towards an everlasting sleep as his dim assistant continued the story without pause.

Polite Notice

She tore the sheet of paper from the notice board.
"What are you doing?" asked her supervisor.
"That note, it was an absolute joke."
"It was a polite notice."
"There was nothing polite about it."
"But it said very clearly 'polite notice' at the top of it."
"You can't just write 'polite notice' and then say absolutely anything you want."
"Of course you can."
She thought for a second.
"Polite notice: I'm going to punch you in the face."
She felt her supervisor's nose break as she landed the blow.

The Cave

He entered and it rapidly became the darkest kind of dark he'd ever experienced.
Something brushed past his face and he let out a little gasp.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he screamed. It echoed all around him. Another hand covered his mouth and he drifted away.

Negative Approach

"Can you do me a copy of this photograph, please?"
"No."
"I have the negative."
"The answer is still no."
"Why not?"
"Because I say I can't do it."
"Do you develop photographs?"
"Yes."
"But you don't do copies?"
"Yes."
"Yes you do or yes you don't?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"I said yes. It's not that difficult, is it?"
"I'll just go somewhere else then."
"No."
"No, what?"
"..."
"You said no?"
"Yes."
"Are you as confused as I am?"
"No."

The Bus

The bus was coming, they could see it in the distance. There were seven of them at the stop altogether and they had been growing impatient.
The bus turned down a side street.
"What the...?" a woman muttered.
"It must be a different bus," a man remarked.
"There are no different buses. There's only one comes down this road," the woman stated.
A couple of minutes later a bus emerged from another road a hundred yards ahead of the stop.
"Look," said the man.
It was their bus alright and now they'd all missed it.

The Field

She looked across the field. It was still there, right where it had first been seen the day before. The weird metallic object glowed in the sun.
She climbed over the fence and headed towards it just as a helicopter appeared and began to land and a man with a bullhorn yelled at her to stop.
She couldn't stop and ran towards the object.
A single shot rang out.

Meal Time

She opened the fridge. A big wedge of that cake stared back at her.
It must be at least a week old now, she thought. And truth be told she was sick of the damned cake now.
She needed something healthier. There was the makings of a decent salad in the clear drawer at the bottom.
That would be the best option, she thought.
She sighed and pulled a fork from the drawer, delving it into the cake.

Time to Dye

He didn't like having grey hair and he'd bought some stuff at the chemist's to colour it.
Just For Men? He thought that sounded like some kind of seedy magazine rather than a hair dye, but the assistant had recommended it and he'd bought the stuff.
Now he was in the bathroom, brown dye all over himself and the tiles and the carpet and his wife's favourite towel.
She was going to kill him when she got back.

Nap

He drifted off in his chair and slept a dreamless sleep. When he woke up it was dark and he climbed out of the chair and up the stairs to continue his sleep in more comfortable surroundings.
He crept towards his bedroom in the dark because he knew the way perfectly well and didn't want to be properly woken up by the light shining right in his face on the stairs.
If he had switched it on he would have noticed his full beard in the mirror on the landing, a full beard that didn't exist on his face when he'd fallen asleep in the chair.

Flood

He was building a huge wooden boat in his garden. The neighbours thought he was mad and called him Noah, but he knew. He knew the flood was coming. He could feel it.
He put down his tools after a day of working on the boat, satisfied that it was nearly ready.
He went in the house and there was water everywhere. It was cascading down the stairs like a carpeted water feature.
His boat wasn't going to be needed.

The Last Man

He looked out of the window of the space station as he sucked on the straw of his protein drink. He was all alone while he waited for the next crew to arrive in a few days.
He looked down at the planet, every other living being that was known of was down there.
A huge flash of light and a rumble which shook the space station and the planet disappeared.
He went to get another protein drink from the fridge.

Gym

He always went to the gym early. He said it was because it was quiet at that time of day and all the machines were free.
There was truth in this, but it didn't tell the whole story.
He'd assume the position to bench a hundred kilos or so and then take out a book and begin reading.
This was his routine every day. Nobody ever saw him.
He'd throw a little water over his shirt before he left to make it look like he'd been sweating and then go to the cool cafe where they did the best breakfast.
Today was different though. There was another man in there. He looked shifty. They stared at each other for almost ten minutes, a kind of stand-off developing. Eventually they both chose a bench and took out their books.

Jehovah

"Can we take a minute of your time to discuss our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ?"
He'd spied the magazine in the hands of one of the women as soon as he'd opened the door. Was that what Bob Dylan had been singing about? Was he one of them?
He slammed the door shut without a word.
"Ooh! Wasn't he rude, Mabel?" he heard from the other side of the glass.
He tore the door open again.
"Rude? Fucking rude? I'll tell you what's fucking rude, shall I? Knocking on people's doors and trying to get them to buy into your fairytale bullshit. Trying to convert people to your backwards way of thinking. Attempting to trick people into buying one of your crackpot magazines that frankly aren't fit to wipe my arse. Anyway, I don't believe any of your creationist fiction; I'm a proud atheist who trusts 100% in science," he raged.
"Yes, but isn't God wonderful?"

Today's the Day

He tore open the curtains, full of positivity. He'd woken up with an unmistakable feeling that something good was going to happen today. He hadn't felt like this since the summers of his youth and he was determined to carpe the hell out of this diem.
He looked across the road and saw two men arguing. All part of life's rich tapestry, he thought.
One of the men pulled out a gun and shot the other in the face.
He drew the curtains and got back into bed, his mind changed about the day.

Best Mates

You were there when I was down. You were there when I was happy. You were there when we were young. You'll be there when we're old. You were there when I did that thing, you know, the one we said we'd never mention ever again? You're always there, waiting, in your bottle.

Progress

He stood looking down the old cobbled street, hundreds of years of history staring back at him. He wondered which great figures had stood on this exact spot taking in this exact view. Founders of the city, kings, warriors, leaders - they'd all surely stood here at some point.
Would people remember him in the same way? Probably not.
He put on his hard hat and ordered demolition to commence.

Spelling Mistake

"According to this guidebook we will have to walk across the desert to get there," he said.
We packed food and water enough for the two-day journey into our backpacks and set off at nightfall at a brisk pace.
It was heavy going. My feet felt as if they were being sucked down. It was unlike any sand I'd encountered.
Maybe it's quicksand!
I looked down and saw cream and fruit everywhere, glistening in the moonlight.
"Hey!" I said to him. "This isn't a desert. It's a dessert."

The Aftermath

It had all seemed so good at the time, but now it was a different story. The world had ended and it was apparent that it had been a mistake, the foolish actions leading to today's devastation.
Now he sat in the denouement of a drinking session which went awry, hoping he would soon feel even slightly human again.