Friday, November 04, 2005

Skelletin in Stone Wall

Mrs. Weirsdo's Story
At first it seemed the Catacombs Cafe would be a success. It had it all: spooky atmosphere, shadowy nooks for lovers, and a great bones man doing the music. He really knew how to tickle the ivories, and could play marimba too.
Unfortunately it transpired that he knew only one song: The foot bone's connected to the--
Ankle bone!
The ankle bone's connected to the--
Shin bone!

Jamie Dawn's Story
You think YOUR knees are aching?

GPV's Story
Tup tok tup tok tup.....The old clock kept sounding off the time passing by as some flies whizzed across the living room where he sat unmoving, eyes fixed on the pendulum shining to in fro behind the glass, tok tup tok.....aside of this no other sound was heard in the appartment.
He sat in the old armchair from morning 'till noon and the chime went 'dongg' 12 times and he stirred and shuffled his feet and his eyes turned to the window, the
day was gloomy and grey, it would not be happier with sunshine not for him, since Marie had gone six months ago there was only stillness
in the house and dryness in his heart, the place was dirty, unkept
beyond description and he didn't do anything about it.
What to do? Nothing....or maybe...
Yes one last thing.
He got up and wend to his room,opened the closet and dressed up, walked back to the living room
and shut the window, went to the door, walked over piles of letters he didn't read anymore and locked the door turning the key twice.
He didn't even look around when he went to the cave door and he locked
that door too once he was in.
They didn't find him for years.

Mushroom's Story
Bob came to realize just how bad the service was at the new restaurant in town, the Cask Of Amontillado.

Doug's Story
He'd waited a long time for the audition. Finally he heard his name called. Time to warm up he thought. "..." "....." "."

In panic he insisted: I couldn't have waited this long only to lose my voice!

My Story
That Eve of All Saints, Halloween, was the worst time of the year for George. It was then that he was reminded of just how alone he was, nothing but bones without that magical element that translates will into motion. He was forced to sit propped in his little stone niche in the wall, watching impassively as the living strolled by. No one decorated any pumpkins with him. No one invited him to the costume balls. And saddest of all, no one offered to have him along on their trick or treating romps. That was bitter. They'd whisk on by, winsome witches, ghastly ghosts and gruesome ghouls, eating the candy they'd collected, and tossing the empty wrappers straight into his rib cage. How awful and cruel life had been. How awful and cruel was death.


Post a Comment

<< Home