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About This Author
 Kiya is a young woman with many interests. She's got a degree in Computer Science and Registered Nursing.
She's an avid reader and considers Stephen King one of her favorite authors.
She's also been known to pen one or two stories here and there, and as a proud moderator of Writing.Com, she invites you to check out her portfolio (and even better, to sign up today!).
Published Works:
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Daily Flash Fiction Entries #430157 added June 1, 2006 at 4:55pm
Restrictions: None
A Tale of Two Feet
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#1098822 by Not Available. |
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I really shouldn’t have had that extra shot of vodka tonight. Damn, this is what I get for hanging out with a bunch of over enthusiastic teachers. Once they make up their minds to have fun, there’s simply no stopping them.
So yeah, I guess this is why I’m currently seeing things. I mean, how else is one to explain the pair of feet sticking out of my neighbor’s trashcan?!
Probably just a dummy, rational mind #1 speaks up. He did say he was an artist of some sort. So maybe he just dumped a useless plastic model that didn’t work.
Yeah right, rational mind #2 pipes up. Who ever saw a model wearing expensive looking loafers?
All right, think. He’s an old man – well, not really old – but who knows what he does in his spare time? He could have killed someone and…
“Don’t think like that!” I suddenly yell to no one in particular. The last thing I need is to spook myself. Suddenly, I hear a groan and I step back in terror. Where had that come from? The trash can? Had the dead body actually spoken?!
“He…hey,” I call out tentatively. I reach for a nearby piece of wood and poke the legs gently. “Hey…are you still…alive…aaaaaaaaaargh!”
“Whu…whuzzat?!” Says the ‘dead’ body that suddenly sits up with a banana peel stuck to its head. He looks around with bloodshot eyes, notices me cowering in the corner and blinks rapidly.
“Ah crap. My foolish wife put me in the trash can again,” my neighbor mumbles as he staggers to his feet and promptly falls flat on his face on his lawn.
In no time, he’s snoring quite loudly and I can only crawl back to my house, fervently hoping no one heard me screaming like a girl.
Word Count: 300
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