Traffic Jam

Adam thought he was ready. He thought he was well prepared. Read all the books, watched all the right videos. If you had asked him yesterday, he would have said there was nothing he was not prepared for. Today he found out there was one thing that everyone seemed to have forgotten about…

As soon as the zombie apocalypse starts, the streets are nothing but one giant traffic jam!

People trying to get away from people eating former people and former people trying to get away from people with chainsaws running after them.

This was nothing like they described.

Adam was sure that this must not be the zombie apocalypse until there was a knock on his car window.

He forgot something very important that day…

Never open your car window during a zombie apocalypse.

This short was inspired by: FOWC with Fandango – Traffic


The Silent Watcher

The man watched in silence as the young mother brought her newborn into the house for the first time. The infant wasn’t the only new thing in the house. The watcher was new as well. The young mother ignored the man as she passed him on the stairs going up to the nursery, but the infant did not. He smiled and cooed at the man.

Time passed, and the man watched in silence as the infant first rolled over and took his first step. He watched the young mother doubt her abilities and cry into the early morning, only to find the strength to do what must be done the next day.

Seasons changed, and the man watched the boy laugh and look at awe at his first snow angel. The man watched as the young mother taught the boy how to make the world’s best snowball. As the boy grew older, the man tread carefully around the house to remain unseen.

The man liked to watch. He was happy to watch. It would have been different if he got involved with the young woman and her son. So very different. No, he loved to watch them read at night in the living room. He loved to watch them laugh and play in the yard. He even loved to hear them argue over bedtimes or dessert after dinner.

Contrary to what the young woman told herself late at night, she was a good mother. The boy loved and adored her and she him. She would do anything for her child. That made the man very happy. Very happy indeed.

Five years after the young mother brought her infant into the house, she stood at the kitchen sink late one wintery evening after a long, trying day and wept. She loved her son, but he deserved better. He deserved the same clothes and toys his friends found under the Christmas tree that morning. She had done the best she could that year, but he wanted so much, and she couldn’t give them all to him.

The silent watcher listened as she drove nail after nail into her heart over a life she thought her son deserved. He watched as she picked up the knife and put it to her wrist over the sink under the running warm water.

He could stay silent no more. He could no longer watch. The man wrapped his arms around the young mother and whispered in her ear.

“Michael?” she whispered.

It was his cologne. That was his embrace. After all this time, had he come home?

The young mother put the knife back in the drawer and walked down the hall toward her son’s room. The flickering Christmas lights painted the long hallway in an array of color. She smiled as she remembered the time her and Michael went to Rockefeller Center at Christmas. She peeked in on her sleeping son who was curled up with his new toy.

The man watched her watch her son. She began to apologize again. The man whispered in her ear and she closed her son’s door and walked into her bedroom.

“I’m so tired, Michael,” she said, curling up on the bed.

The man wrapped his arms around her again and held her. She sighed and smiled. After a few minutes she fell asleep and the silent watcher rose and placed a blanket over his grieving widow.

The Halloween Dance

“This will be the best party of the year,” Colin said.

“Nah, the party of the century,” Chaz said. “I’ve been helping get all the lights to sync with the music.”


Chaz nodded.


“We even got Mr. Frank to let us paint the windows in the gym as long as we come back before Monday and wash it off.”

“Can’t wait for tonight,” Colin said, slinging his school bag over his shoulder, and picking up his xenomorph mask off the bench.

The pair stepped onto the number six bus that took them to school every morning. As the bus pulled away, a small boy’s head popped out from behind the bushes that lined the street by the bus stop.

“Party? Tonight?”

The boy ran all the way home and bolted through the door screaming. His mother screamed in fright.

“STOP!” his father finally managed to scream over them. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” the boy said between pants. “Can I go to a party tonight?”

The boy’s mother shook her head and sat on the couch. She was too old for that kind of excitement. “Party? What kind of party?”

“A Halloween party.” The boy and his father sat in the other chairs in the living room.

“Son,” the father said, shaking his head. “You know we don’t –”

“Dad, it’s a Halloween party! Everyone will be in costumes. It’ll be fine. Please?”

His mother looked at his father with the ‘no’ look, but his father simply sighed and looked at the pleading look on his son’s face. The boy deserved to go out every now and then, didn’t he? And he was right, it was Halloween.

“Okay,” he father said. “On one condition.”

“Yeah? Anything!”

“You come straight home if there is any trouble.”


The boy spent the rest of the day rummaging through his things in order to create the best costume the world had ever seen. Nothing seemed right though, but his father helped convince him that all he really needed was an old suit.

“But what if they ask what I am?”

The boy’s father laughed. “Just say you’re last year’s road kill.”


“Honest. Just be yourself and have a great time.”

The boy waited all afternoon and early evening behind his bush by the bus stop to see the two friends head for their school’s gym. As he watched them pass, he quietly stepped on to the sidewalk and followed them. Never close enough for them to care, but never far enough away that he lost sight of them.

The school was magnificent. The boy had never seen anything so bright and colorful. Pumpkins and Jack-o-Lanterns lined the walk to the gym door. Kids and monsters of all shapes and sizes were waiting inside. The music could be heard all the way down to the main sidewalk.

“Halloween,” the boy said as he walked into the gym with an ear to ear grin.

With a little newfound courage, the boy talked to other kids and costumes. He danced and watched as people bobbed for apples and tried to get caramel apples off strings hung from a bar above them. It was heaven.

The party went on for hours and the boy made lots of new friends who were all impressed with his costume and imagination as going as last year’s roadkill. When the party was over, a small group wanted to walk home with him. He was more excited than he had ever been in his life.

“Where do you live anyways,” a girl asked as they approached the bus stop.

“Over there,” the boy said, pointing to a large steeple lit by the moon.

The girl laughed. “You don’t live in the church.”

“I live by it.”

Chaz and Colin looked in disbelief.

“There’s no homes by the church,” Colin said. “Just a –”

“Never said I lived in a house,” the boy said.

The group stood in silence, staring at the boy in his old suit. Last year’s roadkill? More like fifty years ago roadkill.

“You’re not wearing a costume, are you,” the girl stammered.

The boy laughed and shook his head. Shrieks echoed down the street as the children all sprinted for their homes.

“Everything okay, Edward,” a voice asked from behind the bushes.

“Yeah, Dad. Everything’s perfect.”

Edward told his father all about the dance and how much fun it was. He can’t wait till next Halloween.



Daily Writing Challenge #3

Welcome to the new daily writing challenge

What would any Halloween season be without a party? Whether you’re bobbing for apples, having haystack races, or just listening to spooky music, parties seem to have more mysterious powers this time of year.

Halloween produces a great array of songs ranging from Michael Jackson’s Thriller to Bobby Pickett’s Monster Mash.


Your challenge, should you accept, is to create the most memorable Halloween party.


To participate in this writing challenge, simply post a link in the comments or create a pingback to this post. Go where ever the idea takes you…and have fun!