Do you often feel the urge to write but don’t know what to write about?
On his way home from work he bought his wife thirty-three white roses. Last night they had a bad fight.
He unlocked the door and entered.
‘Honey, I bought you roses!’
He was startled. Half of the furniture was gone.
On a table he found a message: DIVORCE.
She was driving on a snowy road when a truck crashed into her. She saw the northern lights.
Three days later, she awoke in a gloomy hospital room with a terrible headache.
Her nose tip tingled. She wanted to scratch it, but her arms would not move.
She turned pale.
On a rainy summer evening she was struck by lightning. She dropped the umbrella and fell on the glassy street unconscious.
A week later she awoke in a coffin. She heard the priest and the mourners.
‘Shit!’ she thought, ‘They’re burying me alive.’
‘Wait! Stop!’ she shouted.
They were startled.
One sunny morning in June, he awoke only to find himself tied to his bed.
The lovely girl he had slept with last night stood over him, sharpening a knife. He would have screamed, but he had a gag in his mouth.
He had met her last week through Facebook.