Running Late

"Where the hell are they?" he bellowed, as he unceremoniously cleared his desk of papers, and garbage.

"I know I left them in here!"

Doubting himself, he left his office, Stormed through the living room, and began tossing the pillows, and cushions.

"Damn it to hell!"

Then, a lightning bolt of clarity struck him; he ran to the basement.

After clearing the remaining limbs of his latest victim from the second-hand examination table, he found his missing keys.

"Thank you, God!" he proclaimed, before running to his car.

Someone's got be on time to teach Sunday School, after all.

House-Sitting

House-sitting had always been a way for Jack to make extra money, and he'd never regretted that.
Until tonight.
The house was legendary in the neighborhood for its checkered past; some said it was haunted.
Jack was starting to believe it.
He'd been here a few hours, and there'd been plenty of bumps and creaks; those he could handle.
The bawling of an infant coming from upstairs; that's what'd unnerved him.
The phantom wail stopped after a few minutes, which should have relieved him.
And it would've, if it hadn't been replaced by the sound of a rocking chair.