Five days
I came home the first day to find a window, broken.
The second day, a coil of barbed wire covered in excrement on the doorstep.
The third day came with a small decorative picnic basket, considerately filled with dead rats.
On fourth day I was greeted by the cat, very dead and nailed to the door, the word “FUCKER” shaved in to its fur.
The fifth day found me opening a box containing the grinning, severed head of my mother, “DIE FUCKER HOPE YOU DIE” written across her face in black lipstick.
You bring me such wonderful things, my dear.
- Category: Humor / Comedy
- Tags: Black Humour
4 comments add one below
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Jonathan Mills over 9 years ago
This isn't part of a series, had to put a series title before I could re-post it.
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Horrorshow over 9 years ago
A very enjoyable, entertaining read! It sounds as if the narrator has found his true love based on such thoughful gifts! :-)
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Jonathan Mills over 9 years ago
I to leave things with an element of ambiguity if I can, and the last line can be taken a couple of ways - weary sarcasm, ghoulish sincerity etc. It's more or less up to the reader's interpretation. Thanks for reading, glad you enjoyed it.
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Jonathan Mills over 9 years ago
Should be "I like to leave things..." meh.
