Sweet Scent

The entire neighborhood loves my pear trees.  It’s almost winter, and the sickly sweet scent of decaying fruit fills the air.  At first, they told me I should be cleaning up the rotten fruit, but after I pointed out that all the local hornets were too busy feasting in my yard to be stinging their children, they quickly warmed up to the notion.

That, well, and the massive influx of all manner of butterflies that flocked to my yard to join the hornets in their smorgasbord.

It’s a shame that most of the fruit rots on the tree, but such is life.  I don’t much care for the fruit.  I give what I can away.  Each year I get at least one new tree.

It’s days like today that I can really sit outside and savor the—pardon my pun—fruits of my labor.  There’s a cool, autumn breeze blowing the fragrance all over.  I must say that the smell of rotting pears oh so very well masks the scent of other rotting.

Loneliness Comes First

“Where are you, demon?  Show yourself!  It’s midnight, or are you admitting I’m smarter?” shouted a man, standing at the crossroads on the outskirts of his town.

“That’s a whole lot of hollering you’re doing young man,” said a creature that stepped out from the lunar shadows cast by a nearby tree.  The man couldn’t make out much about it other than its piercing red eyes and two curved horns.  “It’s hard to believe anyone would count you as smart with as much of a fool as you’re making yourself out to be.”

“Don’t underestimate me demon.  I summoned you here because I want to prove I can outsmart the Devil himself,” said the man with a broad grin.

“Oh, He knows.  That’s why He sent me to deal with you.  He accepts your challenge.  I am here to grant you three wishes, mortal.”  The demon drew close enough to the man that he could see its face, which was a ruddy red in the moonlight.  It smiled in an odd, upside-down manner.  It looked almost as if it were frowning out of pleasure.

“When you wish for the third one, after one year I will kill you and take your soul back to hell where you will be tormented for all eternity,” spoke the demon, his voice like two warm chunks of coal smacking together.

“Well, that sounds fair.  I agree, and—being smarter than you—know what my first wish will be.”

“You sure you wouldn’t like some time?”

“No, and quit trying to weasel your way out, demon.  My first wish?  I want to be immortal.”  The demon’s expression abruptly changed to a scowl.  “Can’t be killed no matter what.”

“You are a clever one,” the demon said, snapping its fingers.  “You’ll live forever now, but I still will torment you for all eternity on your third wish.”

The man patted himself down, as though he though that something had been added to his body in some way or another.  “Well, hellspawn, I am also smarter than that.  As long as I don’t make a third wish, you’re just out of luck.  It’s going to be no fun living forever with nothing to do.  I wish I was insanely rich and famous.  I’ve never gotten enough attention and it’s high time I got the attention I deserve!”

The demon snarled and snapped its fingers.  “Tomorrow, you will awake rich beyond your wildest dreams in a fabulous mansion.”

The man clapped in joy.  “Goodbye and good riddance,” said the man as he walked back toward town.

***

The next morning, true to the demon’s word, the man awoke to find himself in an exquisite mansion, filled with money and made out of gold.  Outside, he could hear a crowd of people chanting his name and begging him to come outside.  “Carl!  Carl!  Carl!” they chanted.

“I would hate to disappoint my adoring fans,” Carl said as he made a grand exit from his house and out onto his lawn.  There before him were thousands of people, all holding knives, guns, and other sorts of weaponry.

“What the hell is going on?” he shouted as the crowd rushed him and began to stab, shoot, and otherwise maim him.

“We want your money!” several shouted.  “You told us whoever kills you gets all your money!  We’re tired of waiting!”

“Stop!” choked Carl as his multiple wounds closed up and were promptly reopened anew.  “Stop I don’t remember saying that.”

“Money!  All of it!  Kill him!” the mob chanted as they continued to attack him.

“Stop!”

“MONEY!”

Carl managed to break away from the pack and barricaded himself inside his mansion.  The angry crowd pounded on his doors.  If the mansion had windows, they would have been the first to go.

“What the hell did I get myself into?” muttered Carl as he tried to hold his doors shut.  He was in intense pain.  “I wish everyone was just gone. I can’t handle these crazy people.”

Carl would have missed what he had just said had it not been for the sound of fingers snapping.  Everything was quiet.

“No!  I didn’t!  No!  This isn’t at the crossroads, it doesn’t count!” shouted Carl as he looked around, trying to find the demon.

“Now, now.  All’s fair in love, war, and deals with The Devil.  One year, human.”

“Show yourself!  How can you take me to hell?  I’m still immortal.  You can’t kill me or drag me there alive.  I still win you idiot!  I’m going to live forever.”

“Yes, and you just wished away the entire population of this planet..”

“So?” shouted Carl as loud as he could, hoping in some weird way that being louder would reveal the demon.  “I sill won’t die.  I win, you lost!”

“Apparently, Mr. Lingam, you don’t understand the concept.”

“What concept?”

“Hell on Earth.”

Seeing Red Lights

Simon was a man cursed with the most mundane of things, but it became the bane of his existence.  Every traffic light he encountered turned red.  It didn’t matter what color it was before, it would almost instantly turn yellow as soon as he approached.

Since getting his license at age 16, the red lights made him late for everything.  From dates to his grandmother’s funeral to being late for classes and jobs, he had been running late for most his life.  It wasn’t just when he drove either.  Anywhere he went, from walking to taking mass transit to being driven places, the red lights slowed him down constantly.

One day, his wife, fed up with his constant tardiness gave him an ultimatum.  He could either stop being lazy—as she saw it—and make it to his son’s game, or she would leave him.  He had been fired many times for being late, and had missed so many dates and so many of his son’s baseball games that she was fed up with him.

Simon sat impatiently at a red light, knowing the one a block away would be red as well.  He had left early, but the red lights always backed up traffic.  He gripped the steering wheel tightly.  He thought about doing something he never had before: running the light.

He knew the light took forever to change, and he didn’t see any police cars.  He loved his wife, and really didn’t want to lose her.  He looked around one last time to check for any police and boldly made his move.

He was promptly broadsided.

Identity

I grabbed my bat.  If it was my face they wanted, I was going to make them work for it.

I carefully rounded the corner and saw that one of those creatures had climbed onto the wall.  I wasn’t going to let them steal my face.

I shouted loudly as I jumped out, hoping to catch it by surprise.  I didn’t give it a chance to attack.  I just swung over and over, smashing it to bits.  I gloated for a moment over the corpse of my slain enemy, before remembering something.  I ground its body into the ground as it tried feebly to steal my face

I turned around, the bathroom door was open.  I could see its blank face staring at me above the sink.  It was trying to steal my face.