Trick Or Treat

Peering out my window, I can see the parade of little ghouls, and ghosts making their way through the neighborhood. 
They collect their treats, and watch their bags swell with each visited house. 
I clutch the bowl to my chest; waiting for my turn to bring my brand of Halloween into their tiny lives. 
Here they come! A ballerina, is it? and a ninja turtle; how adorable! 
"Trick or treat!" they cry happily, as I open the door, and dropped my treats into their bags. 
I cackle, thinking of their expressions, upon seeing the severed fingers among their candy loot.

Happy Birthday, To You

"...Happy birthday, to you," he sang, as he carried the tray bearing the candle-covered cake. 
An unused game of 'Pin the tail on the donkey' fluttered against the door as he passed. 
The children sat, party hats on their heads, as he distributed each frosted slice to its appropriate place. 
Dressing as a clown was meant to be entertaining, but these kids were each ten to twelve years old; had he made a poor choice in doing so? 
While taking pictures, he silently hoped that the cemeteries wouldn't trace the missing bodies to him, until the party was over.

Paying The Rent

The sickly sweet aroma filled his nostrils, as he seared the meat on the stove.
Work’s been slow, he thought, There’s not much else I could’ve done, right?
His ears delightfully devoured the sizzling sounds emanating from the pan.
Not many people dine at expensive restaurants in a recession, do they?
The main course slid dutifully onto his plate; he garnished it with cilantro.
How was I supposed to pay the rent with no income? he reasoned, as he sat down at the table.
He relished the meal, even though his landlord would’ve tasted better with apple rings, and parsley.

'Two Shakes' Is More Than Enough

Alan awoke in the middle of the night, feeling his bladder’s oppressive weight.
Each step, a test of his bodily control; the impact of foot-to-floor threatened to ‘burst the dam’.
After an ‘eternity’, he stood dazedly before the toilet.
With the ease of a practiced professional, Alan removed his ‘Little Fella’ from its cottony confines.
Urine began to flow, and Alan’s head lolled; he relished the relief.
He didn’t notice when the stream began to turn crimson, and he never would.
Eight pints of precious fluid left his body without his knowing, leaving behind a dry, withered husk.

Pandemic

It happened so quickly, no one was prepared; not even those that thought they were. 
First, they said, "Nothing to worry about. Go about your business." 
Then, they said, "Sure, it's bad, but it couldn't happen here, we have the infrastructure to handle it." 
But they didn't. 
Stores were ransacked, and emptied. People were attacked, and victimized whenever they ventured out. 
We were told, "Don't go outside, or you'll be shot." 
Airborne disease, and martial law; that was the 'new normal'. 
My kids are hungry; I'll risk the bullet, and the contagion. 
What? Oh, it's nothing; just a little cough.