Postbox

She stuck the stamp in the upper righthand corner of the envelope and slid the letter into the slot of the big red pillar box.
Something grabbed her hand.
"What the?"
Her arm was pulled inside all the way up to the shoulder.
The pillarbox spilt in half and she was pulled inside.
It sealed behind her.
She was dropped in a huge pile of letters as the postman with whisky on his breath who lurked in the shadows laughed maniacally.

My Car Won't Start

He tried turning the key several times and nothing happened.
His neighbour appeared.
"Car trouble ?" he asked.
The man nodded.
"No problem, I'll give you a push."
He released the handbrake as his neighbour began to push.
Soon they were at the top of the hill down to the town.
"Good luck," said his neighbour as the car began to roll down the hill.
It picked up speed and he tried to start the car again and again.
Nothing.
Buildings blurred past on both sides. He stamped on the brakes.
Nothing happened.
The river raced towards him.

Wardrobe

He put on the shirt and fastened all the buttons. It was tighter than the last time he'd worn it.
One sleeve was notably shorter than the other as well.
How was that possible?
He peered inside the wardrobe and saw two yellow eyes in the darkness.

Cosmonaut

The rocket soared into the sky and soon they were high above the clouds, the Earth becoming smaller in their rear view mirror as they embarked upon their seven month mission.
Something wasn't right. He checked all the settings on the control panel. Everything seemed ok, but he couldn't shake the feeling.
He was struck by an overwhelming feeling of not having turned the oven off before he left.

Family Feast

"Four pieces, please."
"Breast or leg?"
"Two of each, please."
"Give me a moment."
He went out the back and the sound of powertools and screaming could be heard at the counter.
He returned, his apron splattered with blood, and handed over a plastic bag which contained supper.

WTF?

The window smashed and a giant spring bounced into the living room. It looked like an oversized version of an 80s Slinky.
It bounced and then wrapped itself around him.
He could feel that he was being crushed as the Slinky bounced out through the dining room window, carrying him into the garden.

USSR

"Vladimir, come here."
The young man crossed the room.
"What is it, comrade?"
"We need someone to do a special mission for us."
"I'm the one to do it."
"Excellent."
He led Vladimir into a back room. There was a giant Russian doll in the middle of the room.
"What's this?"
"You're going to hide inside it."
"And go where?"
He opened the doll.
"Just get inside, Vladimir. The less you know, the better."
He stepped in and the doll was closed, wrapping him immediately in darkness.

TV

He switched on the TV.
It was that reality show with the unintelligent youngsters who were fixated on sex. They sat by a pool, drinking and talking absolute nonsense.
He knew he shouldn't watch, but it was like a car crash. He couldn't take his eyes off it.
He felt paralysed. His hand was unable to operate the remote.
He was found dead in his chair, TV still on, three months later, the day after the programme had ended.

Storm

The wind picked up and she stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
There was a tearing sound and the roof was ripped clean off.
She looked at the stars and the detritus and debris flying above her house. It was strangely soothing. She fell asleep.

Which Way?

He pulled up at the junction. There was an arrow pointing left and an arrow pointing to the right. On both of them it said the same thing, the place which he wanted to go to.
Which was best?
He had no idea.
He sat and stared at the signs, a line of cars slowly building up behind him.
Horns honked and angry voices shouted out of windows as it began to get dark.

Homeless

"Got any change, mate?" asked the near-invisible homeless man sitting in front of the bin.
He sat in the same spot each day and his cup was usually full of coins by this time. Today he'd made nothing, literally nothing.
He stood up, thinking it was time to find a new spot.
A man ran straight towards him and thrust a bundle of notes in his hand before disappearing into the crowd.
He crammed them into his jacket pocket as two out of breath policemen on foot appeared.
Tonight he would eat well.

Have You Seen This Man?

"Have you seen this man?" he asked, holding up a poster with a photo of said man on it.
"No."

Never

The day had come. The day they said was impossible. The day that it would all change forever. The day that nobody in their right mind had predicted.
The paperboy had put the newspaper all the way through the letterbox without tearing it.

T-shirt

"I like your t-shirt, man."
He smiled and continued walking.
"They're my favourite band of all time."
He smiled and kept going.
"Hey!" The man stepped in front of him and looked at the t-shirt. "Excellent choice."
He tried to walk around the man, but he moved and blocked the way.
"What are you doing?" asked the man.
"Just going about my business."
"I made a positive comment about your t-shirt, so you're obliged to talk to me."
He tore off the t-shirt and threw it to the ground. He stepped around the man and walked away.

Pot Noodle

The kettle boiled and she poured water into the plastic pot.
In two minutes it would be ready to eat and she'd have her favourite snack.
A rustling noise came from within the pot. She leaned in to have a look.
A large pipe rose quickly out of the noodles and stuck to her forehead. She grabbed it and tried to get it off, but it was too strong.
She could feel herself growing weaker as the pipe sucked the life out of her.

The Cave

There was definitely a noise coming from inside.
Perhaps the legend was true?
If they thought the legend was in any way true at all they never would have gone inside. They thought it was some kind of prankster and they intended to expose them.
There were more noises, getting louder with every step they took into the darkness.
Outside the cave growling and screaming could be heard.

No Change for the Wicked

The youth walked over to the counter.
"Can you change this?" he asked, tossing a five pound note on to the wooden surface.
"Sure," said the man, taking the note and opening his till.
He handed the youth a five pound note.
"What's this?"
"It's a five pound note."
"I can see that, but I wanted change."
"You got change. That's a different five pound note to the one you gave me."

The Guard

He stood from behind his desk and grabbed the torch. It was time for his round. All the doors had been locked an hour ago and they still would be now, but it still needed to be done.
The dark corridors were unsettling and even after six months of doing this job he couldn't get used to them.
He swung the torch from side to side and the light caught first one wall and then another.
He saw something.
What?
How had that got there?
The doors were locked. He knew they were.
The torch was knocked from his hand and he screamed.

The Beach

He stood and looked down at the beach.
Children made sandcastles and ran down to the water to paddle. A man was leading eight donkeys on to the beach a little further along.
It reminded him of his childhood and he was feeling quite nostalgic.
Maybe he should get an ice cream first?
No, that wasn't the plan.
He opened his jacket, revealing the device strapped to his stomach.
He pressed the button.

Do Not Disturb

He was drifting in and out of sleep and he heard the door open.
He snapped fully awake.
"I hung the do not disturb sign on the door," he shouted.
He closed his eyes, expecting housekeeping to mutter an apology and leave the room.
He wasn't expecting the shot to the temple.

No More Bets

The wheel span and the ball clattered around.
The wheel slowed and it looked like the gambler had chosen the correct number. The ball had definitely stopped moving and was stuck at 31.
The dealer tapped a pedal beneath the table and the ball shot out and ended up at 5.
"What happened there?" asked the gambler who stood to win.
"This is what happens in roulette, sir," said the dealer.
"What? Cheating?"
The dealer nodded at a burly man who came over and dragged the gambler into a back room to help him fall down some stairs.

Asphyxia

He tightened the belt around his neck and put the wedge of lemon between his teeth.
He pressed play on his DVD remote.
What filled his screen wasn't exactly what he had hoped for. It was a documentary about whales.
He sat and watched, forgetting all about his plans.

Rain

It had been what seemed like a thousand days of endless heat.
The sky darkened.
People cheered.
One solitary raindrop fell, then another, then another.
It rained the heaviest rain anyone had ever seen for forty five seconds and then stopped abruptly.
The clouds cleared and the searing heat returned.
Forever.

I Write the Songs

He sat at his piano, totally lacking inspiration.
The song for the advert was due tomorrow and he had nothing.
The stupid slogan they'd told him to work into the lyrics was ridiculous. It was 29 words long and ended in a word that didn't rhyme with anything.
And then it hit him.
He played the most famous song he'd ever written backwards and shouted the slogan over the top of it.
That'll do, he thought.
They'd never notice. It actually sounded better than the last thing he'd given them.
He stood and walked away from the piano, humming a melody which would have actually made a good song if he hadn't just thought it was someone else's.

The Painting

"Do you see it?"
"No. I don't understand what you mean."
"Look, there. In the corner."
He moved closer to the painting and squinted.
"Oh yeah. I see it now."
"That's what makes him one of the greats."

Call to the Arms

"Are you coming to the pub?"
"I'll be there in a few minutes."
He hung up and slid the phone into his back pocket.
Once he was done with the task on the rooftop he would feel like having a drink or two.
Across the street the ambassador was leaving the hotel.
He did the job and disassembled his work equipment, putting it into an oversized briefcase.
He pulled the phone from his pocket.
"Get me a lager, I'll be there in five."