a foggy day

by horace p sternwall

as i walking to london town i met a hangman and a clown the clown was dressed in somber style the hangman wore a happy smile i asked the hangman for a dime he paused, and took his own sweet time who are you, he cheerfully asked that i should favor you with cash? i am a creature, sad and forlorn who never requested to be born around my neck are no silk scarves all i wish is not to starve the hangman nodded and replied you have opened my eyes wide i will wipe the smile from off my face and make the world a better place with that the hangman disappeared as the clouds above me leered the clown and i were left alone and he was looking at his phone whatever he saw there did not seem to wake him from his dolourous dream i left him and went on my way what was his fate, i can not say on a foggy day in london town a beggar put a payment down on a castle beside an apple tree o how i wish that it were me the beggar, the castle, or the tree i would be any of the three the beggar sleeps within the walls and from the tree an apple falls

house of horrors

by emily de villaincourt

it is a lovely day, isn’t it, beverly?” “yes, it is, aunt mona. and it would be an even lovelier one if some kind gentleman were to come along and offer to marry me, and rescue me from this house of horrors.” “house of horrors!” aunt mona laughed. “really, my dear, you are so dramatic at times!” that evening at dinner, aunt mona reported beverly’s remark about living in a house of horrors, much to the amusement of the entire company, who kept repeating it with humorous variations right up until the gentlemen retired to the lounge. what a treacherous old cow aunt mona is, beverly reflected. she resolved never to trust another human being again.