Mr. Hawthorne

Didn’t have time to write anything today. So here’s a short story.

adult alone black and white dark
Photo by Kat Jayne on Pexels.com

One day I was sitting on the toilet when somebody knocked on the door.

“Hey buddy, do you mind?! I was taking a shit.” I said to the man.

“Sorry sir, I’m just here to tell you that your grandmother died.”

“Fuck me.”, I thought.

I called my boss to tell him I wasn’t coming to work.

“Your grandmother better have died. Else you will rue the day you crossed me Mr. Hawthorne”, he told me.

I hung on his stupid ass.

I went to the funeral. Everyone was crying.

“Aren’t you sad?”, somebody asked me.

“As my grandmother always said: ‘I’m ready to die.”, I replied.

An old man was trying to steal a watch from grandma’s body. I punched him the face.

“You best back off old man. Or else I will put you underground.”, I warned.

“I’m your grandfather.”, he told me. “That watch is worth 15 grand.”

I kicked him in the face and stole the watch.

I called my boss.

“I’m rich. I ain’t coming into work again.”, I told him.

“You have crossed me for the last time. I will hunt you down. I will strangle you in your sleep. I will mutilate your body. I will burn your house down. I will curse your name for a thousand generations. I will usher in the apocalypse. Your days are numbered Mr. Hawthorne. Your days are numbered…”

THE END

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