The living room smelled like burnt coffee and regret. I knelt in the wreckage of my couch, a shredded pillow squishing under my knee, while Biscuit, my golden retriever, stared at me with eyes so innocent they could’ve been carved…
Marla’s garage reeked of glue and existential dread. Stacked against the wall was a 12-foot-tall cardboard castle, its towers crooked, its moat filled with expired yogurt. She’d promised her neighbor, Dave, a ‘masterpiece’ for the block party. Instead, it looked…
The living room smelled like burnt toast and regret. Whiskers, a cat with a fur coat of half-hearted rebellion, crouched behind the couch, tail flicking like a metronome of dread. The vacuum cleaner—a chrome-plated menace named Gary—hummed in the hallway,…
Mara stared at the spider on her wall. ‘I am brave,’ she whispered. She inched forward… then screamed, knocking over a lamp. The spider escaped. ‘Okay, next affirmation: I am flexible.’ She bent backward like a noodle, arms flailing. A…
Marjorie’s TikTok dance, The Squid Ink Shuffle, began as a joke. She’d spilled coffee on her white shirt, stared at the brown stain, and muttered, “This isn’t a phase, it’s a lifestyle.” Ten seconds later, her phone buzzed with 37…
The apartment reeked of burnt toast and unspoken regrets. Milo, the cat, lay sprawled across the keyboard like a fur-covered monarch, while Biscuit, the dog, paced in front of the door, tail thumping a frantic rhythm. ‘Walk,’ Biscuit barked, though…
Clara stared at her blank canvas, fingers twitching with creative energy. The scent of lavender glue hung in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of paint tubes. She’d promised to make a ‘modern masterpiece’ for the neighborhood art show—until…
Gary ducked behind a cereal box as Brenda’s neon pink sneakers screeched past his aisle. He’d sworn off grocery shopping after their breakup, but here he was, dodging her like a caffeinated tornado. “I’m not running from you! I’m just……
Marla stood before the creaking grocery store door, hands on hips. ‘I am capable!’ she declared, then shoved. The door groaned. ‘I am worthy!’ She jiggled the handle. Still stuck. A customer nearby snorted. ‘Try the key, genius.’ Marla blinked,…
Gary, a 32-year-old man with a forehead that shimmered like a disco ball, stared at his phone, willing the TikTok algorithm to love him. His current obsession? The “Crocodile Dundee Shuffle,” a dance so obscure it required a mime artist…