Employment

Spectre gave a deep sigh.

“What’s wrong?” asked Fuen.

“Been diagnosed with multiple personality disorder,” said Spectre. “So I phoned my boss to tell him I’d need some time off.”

“And?” inquired Fuen.

Spectre sighed again. “I said you’re self-employed, you silly sod.”

 

~

Original photo available on Unsplash. Doodle and tale by Peter Edwards with his Posca Pens.

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Fern

“Fern took going to jail really badly,” sighed Fuen.

“Oh dear!” said Yuffie, “what happened?”

“Well,” pushed in Sprite, “he refused food and drink, swore, growled and spat at anyone that came near him, then wiped sap on the walls!”

“Oh no!” said Yuffie, holding her head.

“Yeah,” said Fuen sighing. “We are never going to play Monopoly with him again!”

~

Original photo available on Unsplash. Doodle and tale by Peter Edwards with his Posca Pens.

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Flower

Flower put down the phone with a sigh.

“What’s up?” asked Fuen.

“Lilypad called me three hours ago from work, saying he had forgotten his glasses,” said Flower. “So I told him to use his contacts.”

“Right,” said Fuen.

“He just called me back,” sighed Flower. “Said he’d called everyone on his phone, and they didn’t know where his glasses were either.”

 

~

 

Original photo available on Unsplash. Doodle and tale by Peter Edwards with his Posca Pens.

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Ivy

“Well sir,” said Malcolm, “it looks like ivy.”

“I can see that,” sighed Denver. “But how is it growing out of her skin?”

“Temperature puts the time of death at eight o’clock last night,” announced the coroner.

“Anything else odd,” asked Denver.

“Soil under her finger nails,” replied the coroner. “It has a blue tint to it, not a local soil that I know of.”

“Get her to the morgue,” said Denver. “Tell me what you find in an autopsy.”

None of them noticed her head had started to flower.

 

~

 

Original photo available on Unsplash. Doodle and tale by Peter Edwards with his Posca Pens.

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Laundry

“Oh, good lord,” sighed Yuffie.

“What’s up?” asked Spectre.

“There has been a thief stealing the Little Fears women’s clothing,” sighed Fuen.

“In size order,” added Yuffie. “Must be OCD.”

“Oh dear,” said Spectre. “Have the police caught them yet?”

“No,” said Yuffie, “they’re still at large.”

 

~

 

Original photo available on Unsplash. Doodle and tale by Peter Edwards with his Posca Pens.

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Ticket

She ran onto the escalator, looking down behind her. It stopped at the bottom of the stairs, watching her. Its short body, awkward arms and legs. It watched her as she rode upwards, to the street, to freedom.

It sniffed the air, closing its clear white eyes. She was convinced they could smell her blood. They had escalated into a frenzy when she had cut her leg running up the tracks.

Nearly there. She turned and ran up the last steps of the escalator.

“Sorry,” said the ticket attendant from above. “They need feeding.”

~

 Doodle and tale by Peter Edwards with his Posca Pens.

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Stressed

“Man, I have been so stressed recently,” said Blue.

“So have I,” sighed Spectre.

“I once heard coral dies when it gets stressed,” pondered Blue.

“Coral?” exclaimed Spectre. “What does coral get stressed about?”

“Current events,” replied Blue.

~

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