Creepy Baby Doll Head's Witch Costume

I made her dress and hat from scraps I found in the attic. Her "body" is an empty wine bottle. I made the ghost and bats on the tree as well. The tree is from Michael's. I think she really likes the costume!

Tension in Suburbia

"What's that noise?" Jerry asked Leeanne, "I'm trying to finish this report for work tomorrow and it's distracting me."

"I don't hear any noise," Leeanne was loading the dishwasher for the night after enjoying her meatloaf for dinner.

"It sounds like a muffled thumping down in the basement.  I hope the water heater isn't breaking down again. That's all we need."

"Me too." Leeanne turned on the radio, "This will drown it out."

"That's even more distracting!" Jerry exclaimed.

"Sorry," Leeanne turned it off. "I'll go downstairs and try to hear the noise so I can make it stop. You're so grumpy today. You hardly ate any meatloaf after I slaved over it. I worked all day today too, you know."

"I'm trying to finish this damned report, Leeanne," Jerry raised his voice, "my bonus depends on it. You want me to get the bonus, don't you?" He looked back at his laptop and his report.

"Yes, Jerry," Leeanne sighed, "I do, but it's not like we're going to die if you don't get it. My bonus will cover our vacation."

"We might die if I get fired and we starve to death!"

Leeanne responded by slamming the door as she descended into the basement.

"Probably some animal trapped down there," Jerry muttered to himself. His heart was already beating hard from the stress of getting the report written when he heard Leeanne scream. He jumped up from his chair, snatched up a flashlight from the top of the fridge and ran down the basement stairs calling to Leeanne.

In his haste Jerry tripped and fell over a tray that they had brought home from the church plant sale containing flats of pansies.

"Damn it!" Jerry rubbed his knee as he got back to his feet, "that's par for the course."

He followed Leeanne's scream to the rarely entered storage room beyond the laundry room.

"What the?" Jerry dropped the flashlight when he entered the room to find an old wooden coffin in the middle of the room and Leeanne, pale and distraught, cowering in the corner amongst old paint cans and wood scraps.

The thumping noise was louder and obviously coming from inside the coffin. "Where did that come from?" Jerry looked at Leeanne for a response, but she only stared in shock.

Jerry moved closer to the thumping coffin and noticed a metal latch, fastened on the outside. Something was trapped inside the coffin. He unlatched the coffin, allowing whatever, or whoever, was inside to push the lid open. Leeanne was now on her feet gripping Jerry's arm as they both stared in shock as Leeanne's younger brother Lester rose from the coffin. They hadn't seen him since he went away to medical school in the fall. They weren't concerned about not hearing from him, since they knew he'd be extremely busy.

Now he wore a maniacal grin and a wilted orchid on his shirt as he came toward them with his arms reaching out for them and his sharp vampire teeth gleaming in the dim basement light.

Jerry and Leeanne were both screaming as they bolted from the room and ran up the stairs and out of the house leaving Lester free to continue his reign of terror.

A Woman's First Day in a Convent

A big black rat scurried through the thick layer of dust under the pews as Amy woke up on the floor of the small prayer room in the convent. She was grateful for the refuge from the torrential downpour that rolled in unexpectedly from the west as she was hiking through the valley.

Far from being a zealous church-goer Amy thanked the nun profusely when she answered the door and offered her shelter and made a promise to herself to attend church more regularly when she got home.

She sat up and looked around in the morning light, sure she recognized the sound of the rustling of feathers behind her. As she turned to look, a large raven swooped down from a rafter and perched on the head of a chipped and dusty statue in the far corner of the room. The bird made a low cackling sound as it settled its wings against its body.

Hoisting her backpack up and onto her back, she brushed the dust off of her clothes and tried to ignore the film of morning mouth, dreaming of a hot cup of coffee. She peeked out a window to make sure the rain had stopped before venturing out to hike back home.

"Hey, birdie," Amy called to the raven, "do you know where the nun is from last night? I'd like to thank her again before I leave." Then she giggled for asking a bird a question as she headed toward the door. The sunrise was a lovely shade of pomegranate. "Maybe you can page her for me."

"Hey, birdie," Amy called again, enjoying the slight echo of her voice in the near-empty room, "Do you know where I can get some coffee and a glazed doughnut to lick?"

When Amy opened the door to exit, the raven swooped out ahead of her, and as she watched it glide toward the rising sun, she realized the raven was leading her gaze to a Tim Horton's a short distance away.

"Thank you, birdie!" Amy called. She heard the raven's caw as he landed on the Tim Horton's sign.

Magic in Everyday Occurrences

The new touchscreen workstation made my job a little easier, but it was acting up again. While I waited for IT to finish the repair, I took a walk to the cafeteria.

It wasn't quite lunch time but I was hungry anyway, so I was curious to see if the vendor had stocked something different for a change besides the usual packaged sandwiches and microwave cups of pasta and sauce. I'd eaten so many of those over the past couple of years that I'd developed a strong aversion to them, which severely shrunk my options.

As I stood staring at the familiar racks of brightly colored wrappers, I knew granola bars and chips weren't going to be enough. I moved toward the refrigerated case to see what the offering there would be when I heard a noise like an old-fashioned doorbell. I turned to see where the noise was coming from when I heard it again, louder and closer. Then it repeated as though someone was violently pounding on a doorbell.

Suddenly the door to the refrigerated case fogged up from the inside and then flew open almost hitting me as I jumped back in surprise.

A cold blast of wind blew my hair back and took my breath away as I continued to back away toward the exit.

I was shocked as a Krav Maga master burst out of the refrigerator, landing in a lunging stance prepared to be attacked.

"Where am I?" the master asked me as I stared in disbelief.

"The cafeteria," I whispered.

He looked me up and down and said, "You're not my opponent. You are a frightened little bunny rabbit of a man."

"Yeah, whatever," I couldn't believe my eyes. This isn't what I had in mind when I hoped for something different to eat.

"My opponent was a sorcerer," the master announced, "to avoid my skills, he magically disposed of me like a pan of soiled kitty litter."

"Um," I said, "do you want to use my phone to call a ride?"

"That's very nice of you," he reached for the phone I held toward him with my shaking hand.

"Oh, damn the sorcerer!" he looked at his extended arm and took my phone, "that demon took my sweatband!"

"I have one at my desk you can have. I'll get it while you make your call." I ran to my desk and found my Power Rangers sweatband, ignoring the perplexed looks from my coworkers. "Be right back."

Racing back to the cafeteria, a crowd was beginning to gather as the master yelled into my phone ordering a taxi. I kept running as I snatched my phone and threw my sweatband at the master.

"I'm afraid I frightened that little guy when I emerged from this refrigerator case," the master explained to the crowd. They all gave each other confused looks and backed away from the stranger.

Just then two security guards strode in and escorted the newcomer to the door. My original problem was now solved as I had completely lost my appetite and returned to my desk having decided to skip lunch.

A Hairdresser Received a Shocking Confession From a Customer

"How do you like your hair?" Jazmine asked her new customer, "I think it really frames your face and the color complements your complexion."

"Yes," the customer agreed, "I've always wanted red hair. I love it!"

"Oh, good!" Jazmine helped the customer remove her apron and turned the chair for her so she could stand up. Lorraine was a walk-in who said she was new in town and eager to fit in. She looked to be in her forties, slightly stocky, but had a light step, a lot of energy and a dimply smile.

"I'll tell you a secret," Lorraine giggled, "I used to love in poverty. I spent ten years as a crack whore, and my pimp was a great marksman with an acute case of schizophrenia."

"Oh! Uh," Jazmine didn't know how to respond but wanted to remain courteous to her new customer. She pretended to straighten the bookshelf that held the style magazines for customers to browse as Lorraine told her story.

"I tired to escape a few times," Lorraine continued, "but he threatened to split my skull like a pumpkin on Halloween. One time he pointed a gun at my eye and threatened to turn me into a Jack-O-Lantern. He always said my head looked like a pumpkin. Do you think it does?"

Jazmine was planning to hedge the question, but Lorraine went on talking without waiting for a reply. 

"Yeah, he was a real cuckoo," she shook her head as she followed Jazmine to the register.

"How much do I owe you?" Lorraine set her purse on the counter to dig for her wallet.

Jazmine was so startled by Lorraine's confession that she messed up typing her password into the register and had to backspace and start over more than once. "That will be $45 today for the wash, color and trim."

"Nice!" Lorraine exclaimed as she swiped her card, "you must be having a sale today."

"As a matter of fact, we are having a special on hair color today," Jazmine handed Lorraine her receipt.

"Thanks," Lorraine slid her card and the receipt into her wallet. "Yeah, that pimp was a real creep. Completely cuckoo! The copse ended up killing him when he pulled a gun on them during a raid on the crack house.  Yup, those were the days, all right."

"Well," Jazmine walked her to the door and held it open for her, "have a nice day!"

A Conversation Between Artists

Ponder had just administered the final brush strokes of his latest urban masterpiece when a nearby trash can fell over and out rolled what appeared to be a visitor from another galaxy.

"What the fuck?" Ponder dropped his brush in the rip rap under the overpass where he'd been painting as he stared at the tiny man trying to right himself from his fall.

The strange creature wore a black and white blazer over gray pants and black combat boots. His hair was white through he seemed to be in his twenties or thirties. He squinted his black eyes as though blinded by the sun even though they were in the shade of the overpass.

"Where did you come from?" Ponder asked as his heart pounded like an alarm, "I just threw my coffee cup in that can ten minutes ago and I'm sure you weren't there."

The visitor giggled and examined his skull with his nimble hands to be sure he wasn't injured in the fall, "I forgot how bright and colorful it is here," satisfied with his head examination he stepped closer to Ponder, admiring his artwork, "I haven't been here in a decade."

"Who are you anyway?" Ponder looked down at his new acquaintance, "Where did you come from?"

"Everyone here asks so many questions," the man remarked, "such an inquisitive race."

Ponder backed away nervously.

"You should see your expression!" the little man laughed, "I love this part!"

"Um," Ponder was still backing away, "I don't know..."

"It's OK," the man sighed, "don't be afraid. My name is Tiki Tiki Tommy Tom."

"What?" Ponder wondered where this hallucination was coming from. He wondered if the fumes from the paint were causing this. It was just getting more weird with every second, "Tiki-Tiki-Tommy what?"

"You sure say "what" a lot" Tiki Tiki Tommy Tom said, "this is my fifth deployment to your planet to bring back some art. You see I'm an artist too, but everything is black and white on my planet. There's no color, so every so often I get to drop in on Earth to admire some color. For inspiration, you know."

"Are you real?" Ponder moved closer to Tiki Tiki Tommy Tom and slowly reached toward his face.

"No touching!" Tiki Tiki Tommy Tom slapped Ponder's hand away causing Ponder to gasp.

"You are real!" Ponder drew his hand back, "an artist from another galaxy!"

"I'm not from another galaxy," Tiki Tiki Tommy Tom said, "I'm from the back side of an asteroid."

"Whoa," Ponder said, "an artist from an asteroid!"

"Yes, now you have it."

"How do you make clothes on an asteroid?" Ponder asked as he looked over Tiki Tiki Tommy Tom's blazer and pants.

"We don't!" Just then Tiki Tiki Tommy Tom yanked Ponder's pants down, knocking Ponder on his butt on the rip rap.

As Ponder yelped from the pain, Tiki Tiki Tommy Tom pulled Ponder's pants and shoes off and dove back into the trash can and disappeared.

Picking Up a Hitchhiker

The skyline displayed a beautiful sunset as I drove home from work. As I passed the hospital, getting all the lights green, I visualized my comfy mattress where I planned to land when I got home.

I was almost to the on-ramp for the interstate when I sadly got a red light. My mattress seemed to be calling me telepathically as I waited for the light to turn green.

Then zap! Out of nowhere a hitchhiker was tapping on my passengers side window. I tried to ignore him willing the light to turn green. He continued to tap on the window relentlessly and when he started hollering "Excuse me!" in a loud growl, I couldn't ignore him any longer.

I rolled down the passengers side window, reluctant to interface with someone strange enough to tap on a stranger's window, but I deferred to his persistence even though he really creeped me out the way he wore his Halloween costume two weeks before Halloween.

"I'm heading home and lost my ride," explained the hitchhiker in the Michael Myers costume.

"Are you sure you lost your ride?" I asked, shaking in fear.

"Yes," Michael Myers explained, "We stopped for gas and when I came out of the mens room, he was gone."

"Are you sure you didn't murder him in the mens room and now seek a fresh victim?" I asked, "Your costume is very frightening."

"What costume?" Michael Myers asked, "A beaker of acid spilled on my face years ago and this is my face."

"Oh, how embarrassing," I could feel my face turning red, "How awful for you."

"No problem," Michael Myers replied, "I make good coin at kids' parties."

The light was now green and the line of traffic behind me started honking, so I reluctantly unlocked the door and Michael Myers hopped in.

"Where are you headed?" I asked mourning the fading of my mattress fantasy.

"I'm talking you to hell!" he pulled a butcher knife from his jumpsuit and stabbed me in the face.

A Family Mystery Uncovered

It was a boring Sunday like every Sunday during football season. Beatrice fought over bathroom time with her sister Lucretia while their father drove their grandma to church and their mother enjoyed a Game of Thrones marathon. After church Dad and the NFL would take over the living room.

"Stop fighting, girls!" Their mother Gloria called up the stairs. "Don't make me start scheduling bathroom time."

"It's her fault," Lucretia replied glaring at Beatrice, "if she wasn't so ugly she wouldn't have to be in there so much trying to get pretty."

"Lu!" mother yelled, "what have I told you about calling your sister ugly?"

"You do realize we're twins," Beatrice returned Lucretia's glare.

I'll be in my room." Lucretia stomped into her room and slammed the door.

"You know we have two bathrooms," Gloria said before returning to her marathon. "I'm going to swap them for two dogs and move to a desert island," she muttered into her cup of coffee.

Suddenly the cat Poe raced into the living room from the kitchen at top speed and jumped into Gloria's lap. "You almost spilled my coffee, Poe! What is your problem?"

Beatrice and Lucretia raced down the stairs to jump onto the couch where their mom put a hand over her coffee cup to keep it from spilling.

"What is everyone's problem around here?" Gloria was annoyed.

"Didn't you hear that loud noise in the back yard?" Beatrice asked.

"No, what noise?" Gloria looked back and forth between her daughters. "Is that what spooked Poe?"

"When's Dad coming home?" Lucretia held onto Gloria's arm.

"Soon," Gloria replied, "What noise?" she asked again. Poe jumped to the floor and sat in the corner to stare at the wallpaper as was his habit when the family was together talking.

"I didn't hear any noise," the girls stared at her wide-eyed with fear, "can you help me out with some info or is it a secret?"

"It sounded like a crashing noise and a gun shot!" Lucretia spoke while Beatrice nodded in agreement.

Giving in to her curiosity, Gloria put her coffee cup down on the coffee table, pried herself apart from her frightened daughters and headed to the kitchen in the back of the house.

"No, Mom, don't go out there!" Lucretia tried to hold her back.

"At least take a weapon," Beatrice handed her a hard cover notebook which Gloria ignored. Just then their dad Gregor burst in the back door with a shotgun in his hand and grandma behind him.

"Hey, guys," he announced, "I just shot a rabid racoon in the back yard. I was getting Grandma out of the Lincoln and it came staggering sideways at us."

"Yeah," said Grandma, "I almost shit a brick!"

"Well, there you see," Gloria turned to her daughters who were no longer frightened, but disgusted, "mystery solved."

A Strange Request at a Piano Bar

"Oh, sassafras!" Ethel exclaimed when she stopped twirling and staggered sideways into the sad clown.

"Oh, ho, ho," Jim Bob the clown howled an exaggerated laugh as he helped Ethel regain her equilibrium.

"Getting old sucks," she said with a sigh and wobbled over to the little boy who was politely holding the apple Ethel had been eating when she offered to demonstrate how cool her poodle skirt looked when she twirled. "I guess I need to get back to yoga class to work on my balance."
The little boy kept his face a mask of indifference to hide his inner laughter. Jim Bob noticed the boy's face about to burst from his weakening reserve and gave his nose a beep so he could let out a giggle without insulting Ethel.

Ethel accepted the apple from the giggling juvenile without any hint that he could be laughing at her misfortune and the boy jogged back to the lights of the carnival and away from the increasingly awkward situation.

"Oh, double sassafras!" Ethel exclaimed, "my apple is steeped with oxidation!" she held it up for Jim Bob to see the browning flesh of the apple before tossing it over the chain link fence that bordered the carnival area.

"You know, Ethel dear," Jim Bob's concern showed through his thick clown make-up, "you're no spring chicken anymore and it worries me that you insist on doing that twirling poodle skirt bit for the patrons. You could have fallen and sprained an ankle, or even broken something."

Ethel, now angry, stood on her tip toes to look Jim Bob in the eye and said, "Ever since 1975 when that piano man in the bar paid me to do the skirt twirl, I've been doing that bit. I don't need anyone creating controversy over it. That's ageism on your part, Jim Bob. It may have been a strange request once upon a time in a seedy piano bar, but I've made a halfway decent living at it and I'll keep doing it until men stop stuffing money into my cleavage, so there!"