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Family Reunion

by Joel R. Hunt

 

The months after she died felt like a thousand lifetimes, and each one was unbearable without her. When she appeared at the foot of my bed, I knew she had returned to release me from my torment. Her eyes glowed. Her face shone. Her finger beckoned.

God, how I missed her.

“Join me,” she sang.

“Yes, my love,” I answered. I rose, grabbed the nearby razor and snapped it in two. She smiled as my trembling fingers took the blade.

“We’ll be a family again,” I whispered.

I pushed open the door. Walked over to the nightlight.

“All of us.”

Joel R. Hunt

Joel R. Hunt is a writer from the UK who dabbles in the darker aspects of life, particularly through horror, science fiction and the supernatural.

He has been published in a number of short story anthologies (including the Black Hare Press ‘Dark Drabbles’ series), and hopes to have released his own anthology of short stories later this year.

You can find his daily ‘very short stories’ on twitter.com/JoelRHunt1

Five Golden Rings

by Joel R. Hunt

 

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me five golden rings.

I don’t think she meant to.

I’d found a similar package under our bed the other night, and it had a new watch inside. I’m certain that was the gift she’d intended for me.

This other box contained five wedding rings which were identical to my own, even having the same engraved message:

Till death do us part, my dearest…

It might have been a sweet gesture, except that each engraving ended in a different name.

And the rings were still on their original fingers.

 

Joel R. Hunt

Joel R Hunt is a writer from the UK who dabbles in the darker aspects of life, particularly through horror, science fiction and the supernatural.

He has been published in a number of short story anthologies and hopes to have released his own anthology later this year.

https://twitter.com/JoelRHunt1

 

Gallows Humour

by Joel R. Hunt

 

Gonzo the Clown trembled on the gallows. The rope rubbed his throat raw, tighter with every nervous gulp.

“You know the law,” declared Judge Jolly, “If you make me laugh, you go free.”

“Right…” Gonzo squeaked, “Erm… what do you call-”

“Louder!”

“What do you call a mime in a blender?”

“I don’t know,” said Jolly, “What do you call a mime in a blender?”

Gonzo opened his mouth as the trapdoor fell away beneath him. He rasped and spat, but no words escaped.

Jolly stroked his chin.

“Not a bad set-up,” he said, “but the punchline was left hanging…”

 

Joel R. Hunt

Joel R Hunt is a writer from the UK who dabbles in the darker aspects of life, particularly through horror, science fiction and the supernatural.
He has been published in a number of short story anthologies and hopes to have released his own anthology later this year.
twitter.com/JoelRHunt1

 

The Ancestor Stone

by Joel R. Hunt

 

Becoming a man had been harder in my grandfather’s youth, or so he delighted in telling me. The Sacred Forest was wild and overgrown. A boy needed to battle dangerous beasts, avoid poisonous plants, ascend the Ancestor Stone and carve off a piece to present to the tribe.

Only then would he become a man.

Now, the path was well trodden, the beasts tame, the flora dying. My forefathers had braved a treacherous journey so that mine would be safe.

I was grateful.

Until I came to the centre of the forest.

There was no Ancestor Stone left to carve.

 

Joel R. Hunt

Joel R Hunt is a writer from the UK who dabbles in the darker aspects of life, particularly through horror, science fiction and the supernatural.
He has been published in a number of short story anthologies and hopes to have released his own anthology later this year.
twitter.com/JoelRHunt1

 

Joel R. Hunt