Category: Short stories

Genial mortician’s consultant,
now a imprudent hobo.
A lackey planted next to him,
but not a single dime for his kookaburra.

Quash the hobo’s esteem,
make him repent reposing the kookaburra.
The motto: don’t be fastidious.

It’s Friday morning, he’s running as fast as he can. He’s late. Again. Setting his foot in the humble funeral home he works at, he’s immediately confronted by one of the morticians. Nero called him “The Skeleton” due to the man’s height, weight, general scariness, and breath that smelled like dead people.
“Yeah, I-“
“Well if you’re done with the yelling I could easily help you out. Is that fine with you, mister?”
“Fuckin’ hell, Nero..”

After Nero had given the mortician a few handy tips on how to get the most money out of the grieving family, they still had a good ten minutes left until 12. The Skeleton suddenly turned calm, but the tone of his voice still had a kind of a strictness to it.
“You know our top competitor moved their services right across the street, right?”
“Mhmm,” Nero didn’t really care.
“Well, we need more money to compete with them. If we don’t manage our high budgets somehow, we’ll all lose our jobs.”
Something was wrong here.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that we don’t really need a consultant anymore. You give good advice, but it’s been mostly useless these last few days, I’ve already known these methods myself. In reality.. it’s not even a real job. Even YOU don’t take it seriously.”
“BUT I-“
“We appreciate the year you worked with us.”

And soon enough Nero found himself outside of his now former workplace. He had hoped to say something witty, but it all happened so fast and The Skeleton kept cutting him off. Although he was already outside, it didn’t stop him from shouting a few “nice” words at the building he was just kicked out of.

Nero had no idea what to do next. He was in huge debts, he had no living relatives, good/rich friends, and finding a new job seemed hopeless. He sat down on the street and set his head on his knees. Sat there like a little kid who had just failed a test and felt that their whole world was going to crash because of it. Suddenly he heard a voice.
“Hey, you look.. troubled.”
Nero didn’t even care enough to look who it was, just replied with some weird animal sound.
“…well, I’m here to congratulate you on winning the lottery. The grand prize, or whatever. So congratulations, multi millionaire!”
Nero jumped up, eyes as big as god knows what.
“Of course it is.”

And he woke up.
Laying on some coat he had found, good old Spotty warming his leg, a few dimes in his cup. Headache-y.

A sissy with a white tie
openly ran away with gangrene.
and strung out on dirt with home-grown,
sanctions by the institution
were now practically removed.

Joseph was an average joe living in Brooklyn, New York. He worked from 9 to 5 in an office, 5 days a week. He had worked there for over ten years. There was something that was a little off about him – he was a man in his thirties but he was already having his mid-life crisis. He was tired of working 5 days a week 9 hours a day. He needed some action, some new experiences, some fun in his life.
One day, when he was coming home from work, he failed to see a herd of nails and he stepped on one. This hurt like hell. It later turned out the wound took a turn for the worse and turned to gangrene.
This was the last spill in his cup, he got even more depressed. He decided to move to South-America. He went to Amazonas and started living with a native tribe. Because of that he no longer had to pay taxes. The man whose whole life was about his job and who didn’t know anything but his job was on his way of becoming a man who could survive the wilderness on his own.
His gangrene was amazingly cured by the medicines the natives had given him. The tribe usually had some type of angst or grudge against white people but seeing how Joseph was sick, they decided to take care of him. Joseph combined his knowledge of nature with his knowledge of civilization and quickly became one of the wisest men in the tribe. He gained respect and after a few years he was chosen as the right hand of the leader. He never thought about his past in civilization.
He woke up at 8 o’clock and realised he had to go to work. His leg was fine, he never had gangrene. The dream felt so real that Joseph became lugubrious, when he realized that he had to go to work. He decided to write a poem about his dream:

A sissy with a white tie …

  1. Awesome
  2. Commercial
  3. Elm – tall tree
  4. Gourd – large fruit
  5. Grumble – complain about something
  6. Lacklustre – not interesting
  7. Parterre – a flat area in garden
  8. Predictor
  9. Questioning
  10. Rabbit
  11. Rabble
  12. Soca – carribean music
  13. Sop – releaf
  14. Stripe
  15. Unsavoury – unpleasant

Rabble rabbit
Grumbled in Parterre

Gourd awesome sop
on elm tree

Questioning soca’s
Unsavoury commercial

Stripe predictor
is lacklustre.


Once upon a time, there lived a rabbit. This one wasn’t a usual rabbit, like we know from fairy-tales. Robin was his name and he was a very rabble one. He was constantly complaining and he didn’t get along with anybody in the forest, not even with the other rabbits. Robin was always alone but actually he didn’t care about that. He thought that the less you care the happier you are.

One day as he was hopping around in the unknown parterre, he saw a gourd hanging above him, on a tall elm tree. Because he in his nature was anxious, he was eager to get the juicy fruit down from the tree. But Robin wasn’t born to climb trees. So he gave it a little thought and since he had no friends, that lonely rabbit was forced to visit the local predictor, who lived inside of a mysterious and dark stump. No one ever dared to speak with the predictor, but Robin wasn’t afraid.

When Robin reached the Predictor’s home, he heard doubtful soca songs playing in the background. Robin stepped inside and saw the predictor doing some magic. When the predictor noticed Robin, he asked what was wrong. The rabbit started to grumble about his problem. The predictor took his time to deal with the question. For a moment it felt lacklustre for Robin. In the end the wizard came to a solution.

The predictor said that there was only one true solution. Robin had to paint awesome red stripes around the tree. The plan sounded strange for Robin, but nevertheless he was eager to get the fruit.  It became more unsavoury when he heard the other part of the ritual. In addition he had to sing a soca song around the tree exactly when the sun is highest in the sky. Robin thanked the predictor and left.

The rabbit waited for 7 days and 7 nights for the right moment. When the time came and the sun was highest in the sky Robin started to paint the stripes on the elm tree. When he finished painting he started to sing an old soca song and after a minute or two the ritual was over. It was a big sop for him when he saw the fruit actually falling down from the tree. But unfortunately it fell right on top of his head and he was literally squashed.


By Brain and Ingmar


Humane Sherlock with a heavy ladder,

burned his jeans in a settlement.

He then built a neutral wheelbarrow with his money

to heat his feel-good genitals.

It was a typical Sunday afternoon in London. The shadowy narrow streets of the Upper East End were quiet as the people had hidden themselves away from the stuffy air. It was one of the warmest summers of the decade.

Sherlock was sneaking out of the apartment, trying not to wake his roommate Dr.Watson from his afternoon nap. He was on a mission to reveal the culprit who had kidnapped Mrs. Hudson. The detective slunk through the dark alleys and obscure passageways to the house of the suspect, making sure that nobody saw him. Soon enough, he reached a seemingly deserted building. The curtains were pulled and the front doorstep was dusty, but as he looked around, he noticed a single faint footprint leading to the back door. Sherlock touched the handle, but it was locked. He needed to get in somehow and started to think of a way into the house. Suddenly, he spotted a ladder in the corner of a shed. He positioned it on the wall and climbed to the roof. There he noticed an ajar window and crawled in.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” a deep, brittle voice said.

Sherlock quickly turned around and saw a man pointing a gun at him.

“Hello, Moriarty, how lovely to see you.”

“Always so polite, Sherlock,” Moriarty mocked, “but I’m not here to chat.” He pulled the trigger, but fortunately missed the detective, because Sherlock had expected his move. He grabbed Moriarty’s pistol and managed to wrench it out of the criminal’s hand.

But then Moriarty punched him in the stomach with his elbow and ran out of the room. Sherlock followed him and finally found Moriarty in the kitchen. “You’ll not get away this time!”

Moriarty sneered: “A bit too confident, my friend,” and jumped towards him. They struggled over the gun, during which Sherlock was shoved against a hot-plate.

“Arrrgh, DAMN IT!” Sherlock yelled in pain.

“Better luck next time, dear Sherlock.”

And with those words, he disappeared.

To be continued…

The Room


This room is ideal for me. It’s just the right size, not too big. Though the choice of colour, blue-white-orange, wouldn’t be my first choice, I have nothing against it. The good thing about it, is that there are so many different ledges and places, where I can put all my stuff, as I am used to storing things, chaotically. I’m also a very nostalgic person, so most of my shelves are still filled with toys. The shelf above my desk is filled with model cars. Cupboards are full of boxes, full of legos. There are many different lego thing on my desk, other shelves and even my floor. It’s useful, because I always use them anyway, thus no need to store them and then just take them out again, every time I need them. My room is generally clean, I would say. I have to clean it every weekend, so every week, it starts off very clean, but gets messier as the week progresses. By friday, it is hard to find certain things.

My Mom

This room would be perfect if he didn’t make it twice as small, as it is. i can’t even step anywhere, when I come here. I might step on something and trip or break something. He needs to sort things out – what he needs and what is unnecessary. He could use some of Anthea’s tips. Also, this room would definitely fail the white-glove test. I mean, honestly. Does he really think that dusting only twice a week keeps things proper and clean? And why won’t he put his legos away? Everything would look a lot more tidy, if he just put things in their proper place and organize things. That way, it is easy to find things, if you need them and later you can put them away again.

My Room

1.   I walk into my room and immediately spot the mess. There are quite a few stuff lying where they are not supposed to lie. Fortunately I have quite gotten into the habit of cleaning up the mess when it gets too big. I see a guitar on the left hanging on the wall and two other guitars at the other end of the room.  On the left there is also a big closet and my bed. On my right I have a cupboard full of books, movies, games etc. I also see the mammoth table on the right. On the table I see my computer, a printer and a bunch of other stuff I use daily. It’s a pretty average room, I suppose, but I like it.

2.      I walk into his room. Oh, there is a guitar on the left. Well, I should strum it, maybe it’ll disturb him. He always tries to do something to disturb me when he’s in my room. Why is his room larger than mine? There is still a calendar of 2009 hanging on the wall, and a BIG Manchester United flag on the wall. Why does he have so many books on his table? Oh, the computer! I’m going to change the wallpaper to something funny when he’s not looking. It’s payback time.

Oh yeah! At last I can sit down and relax on my soft sofa. I’ve got everything handy over here: my PC, TV, wardrobe and my table. The only thing missing is a refrigerator :D. I’ll just turn my quiet PC, with a cool-looking blue light on, plug out the headset, plug in the speakers and listen to some music. At the same time, I am going to turn on my CRT screen TV, turn on my playstation and play a few games of soccer. I am glad that someone invented Youtube. Now I don’t have to download the songs and constantly switch them.

Hmm, I wonder what is behind this clean and completely white door. It surely must be a young man’s room. You ask, what makes me think that. Well, the fact that there are posters of sports cars on the wall and that there is no gigantic mirror on the wall clearly indicates that this is not a girl’s room. Besides the car posters, I notice a papyrus, displaying the ancient Egyptian god Amon-Ra and his servant. I wonder whether this boy is religious or that the painting is just a souvenir. The room itself is unusually tidy. There are no clothes laying around and there are no food leftovers on the two tables. However few shelves of the huge closet on the left side of the room are full of all sorts of different stuff. I better not check the other cupboards. The other thing I noticed, is the technology in this room. There are two TVs, a PC, a playstation and a stereo system. On a closer look, I counted 12 speakers, but the owner of the room has done a really good job to hide them. They are not visible, when first stepping into the room. And last but not least the sofa. Well, I have to say that I do not really like it. It is just not my type of sofa and besides it is a bit too soft for me.

Jaleel had always lived a normal life, conventional, as one might say. He had everything a person could want from life: a well payed job, a big house and a loving wife, Rakeesha.
Jaleel’s best friend, OJ, also had his life set straight, leading a pioneering IT-company and living with his highschool girlfriend, Yolanda. And despite all their success, neither of the men were happy. They had all the right aspects to be happy, but they weren’t, because they actually loved each other.

This issue had risen a few years ago, but both men tried to oversee it, believing it to be a phase, but after years of anguish, they couldn’t wait any longer. They had to get divorces, though both men knew, that their wives wouldn’t agree.

Jaleel went first, begging Rakeesha to agree on the divorce matter, but his wife refused. He didn’t explain why he needed it, he just said that they must divorce. Rakeesha still refused. They needed a new strategy.

A month later, they were camping in the Ambrose gorge. While they were walking a narrow passage, Rakeesha slipped but Jaleel managed to grab her hand. There, he realized, what he had to do. He let go of Rakeesha, sending her to a fall of 30 meters onto jagged rocks. He made it look like an accident and as nobody else knew about his divorce attempt, no one suspected him of anything aswell.

Two weeks later, it was OJ and Yolanda’s anniversary. The only person they invited, was Jaleel. There, the men would kill Yolanda. They put some poison in the champagne. Their plan was to let Yolanda drink it first, as it was a fast-acting poison. When it came to it, they all raised their glasses, ready to drink. Then, moments before Yolanda drank it, she said, she couldn’t drink for a month, a doctor had given her such instructions. But then she said that both men can drink to Rakeesha’s honour. The men had no other choice. At 18:47 PM, OJ and Jaleel died.

Boy with a bicycle drives along busy London street. It was a sunny day and the boy was enjoying himself. He drove into the hole and fell. He twisted his little ankle.

A beautiful girl sitting on the park bench saw the boy falling down and ran towards him. She asked the boy if he was all right. He rejected her and answered that everything was okay. When their eyes met they stopped and stared at each other for a minute, which lasted longer than an hour. They blushed, and in total silence she helped the boy up. The whole situation became awkward. And the only thing that came out of his mouth was “you, me … bananas?” The girl giggled and answered: “with ice-cream, of course”
They decide to go for an ice-cream. They got the ice-creams and went for a walk in the park. They sat down on the bench to enjoy each other’s company. All in all they had a wonderful time, talking and laughing.
Time went by and the sun started to set, so it was time for them to say goodbye. The day ended with a long awaited kiss.
Since that day on they’ve been seeing each other every day. The years went by and it was time for them to get married.
They decided to go for a honeymoon to a beautiful island in the Pacific ocean.
They had the best time of their lives there, and they lived happily ever after.


By Ingmar and Brain


The woman took her bike and set off. The first waypoint was a Buddhist temple. She was alone there, on her trip. She had gone through some rough times in England. Working day after day, sometimes weeks on end without a break. “Its time,” she thought, “I need to get some rest from this madness. And what better place for a vacation than India? Its an ex-colony of the United Kingdom, so probably I can get away with speaking English there. It is warm there and full of culture. That is truly where I want to be right now.”

So here she was, exactly in the place she wanted to be and exactly when she wanted to be. She couldn’t wait to be on the road with her bike. She enjoyed the freedom there. She could go anywhere, do anything. Perhaps the overjoy was what almost cost her her life. But perhaps it was what almost bought her her happiness.

She was on her way, on the road, when she was almost hit by a car. The driver of the car, a young charming Indian, had been more focused on the computer screen in the car than the driving itself. The man stopped immediately. “Are you alright?”, he asked. “I.. I think so”, she answered. Something magical took place at that exact moment in that exact place. Something in their eyes connected. They stood there for a minute, just staring each other.

A year passed by. It turns out that magical moment meant a lot for both of them and that spark encouraged both of them to get engaged. “Well,” the man said, “Even bad situations can lead to the greatest moments of your life”. That story took place around 20 years ago. Today, they are still living together happily, in one of the megalopolises of the world, Mumbai India.

Written by Allan and Kalev.