Grandfather Clock

Tick...Tick...Tick... Greg stared at the grandfather clock with a frown, his arms crossed. The mystery of the clock had consumed him for the entirety of his stay at his grandpa's house. It ticked, which would usually mean it worked. And yet the hands had been stuck at 1:30 all weekend. Whenever he got close, his grandpa would shoo him away, warning him not to get too close. But why did he care? It didn't look fragile or expensive, unlike the other antiques in the room.

Greg stood in front of the clock, watching the pendulum swing left to right. Its incessant ticking taunting him. It was clearly working, so why was the time completely wrong? He looked at his phone to see that it was many hours out of time. If only he could nudge the hands to the correct time, it might restart and begin working once more. But his grandpa... Thinking on it, he hadn't seen or heard his Grandpa Drew all morning. He slunk through the house, looking for the old man, eventually finding him dozing outside with the morning newspaper resting on his belly. Greg grinned, this was perfect!

He rushed back to the clock and gingerly placed a finger on the wooden panel. Then his whole hand. Then the other. Greg smiled mischievously. He was touching the grandfather clock and his grandpa wouldn't even know! As long as he kept his grubby fingers to the wood and not the glass, he wouldn't risk leaving a stray fingerprint. Now all he had to do was adjust the time. He reached up on his tiptoes, and pushed against the minute hand to move it backwards. Yet try as he might, it just wouldn't budge. Gingerly, he nudged it forwards, and the hand moved! Doing so made a weird tingle go down his back. He chocked it up to the thrill of doing something against the rules.

A Tough Decision

THE DECADES CIGAR

Ethan was lounging outside, enjoying the warm morning sun, when he heard the patio door open. He opened his eyes, and turned to see Bruno stomp out with a mug of coffee, and proceed to collapse into one of the outdoor sofas with a long sigh.

"Phew! I'm so glad it's the weekend," Bruno mumbled after taking a sip of coffee. "Who knew that having a job could be so tiring."

"You're the top executive in your company, how can you be tired?" Ethan questioned accusingly. "All you do is sit at a desk, and hold meetings. Nothing like me..."

"Hey! I also do other stuff!" Bruno growled, rubbing at the back of his neck, working out a kink. "It's just tougher at my age. Being in your fifties can be such a drag... Not that I'm complaining!"

"Well, you did make that decision yourself, you know."

"Yeah, yeah..." Bruno smiled wistfully. "But I could still do with an extra day to relax." Suddenly, he snapped his fingers, his leathery face stretched into a grin. "Hang on, I'm basically the boss! From now on, we're going to have a four day week. It's the future, you know."

"I don't think that's how-"

"And there's only one way to celebrate such a momentous decision." He grinned as he leapt to his feet, and reached for a humidor hidden inside of an outdoor cabinet. Inside were a selection of fine cigars.

He took one from the top, then turned to Ethan and held the box out to him. "Don't think I forgot about you."

"I don't know if I should, it's not even noon..."

"C'mon, just one little cigar. I know you want to."

Halloween Nostalgia

Maria pawed through her purse one last time, ensuring she had everything she needed, followed by an affirmative nod of the head. She looked up to her eldest son, home from college for a week, and beamed. "Thank you for looking after Carlos tonight," she said with a glance over to her youngest, who was engrossed in a battle on his Switch. "Remember to stick to the neighborhood, don't go any further than Maple Avenue, and be home before eight! I don't want you staying out all night. And don't forget to-"

"Don't worry mom," Gabe interrupted. His mom always worried. "We'll be safe."

"And Carlos." Maria leaned down to speak quieter. "Thank you for amusing your brother, I know Halloween isn't your favorite."

"Aha..." Carlos mumbled, keeping his focus on his game.

"You say it like I'm forcing him to go!" Gabe said with a exaggerated pout. "Now hurry along or you'll be late." He waved his mom goodbye, then ran to the storage cupboard where he'd stored two bags, each containing a costume. The words "Costume Plaza" in big balloon letters adorned each one. He chucked the largest bag to Carlos, who grumbled as he paused his game. Gabe was practically bouncing with energy. "I hope you're ready for a spook-filled night!"

"You know I'm not." Carlos groaned, taking his bag by the handle. "But you'll never shut up about it if I don't."

"That's the spirit!" Gabe cheered, watching as his brother slunk towards the stairs. "We should leave within the hour if we don't want to miss the good candy!"

Carlos stomped upstairs with his bagged costume, clearly unhappy with the situation. As for Gabe, he couldn't wait to try his costume on. He carefully slid the garment out of its bag and gazed upon its beauty. Well, it was a cheap looking Loki costume, the kind made for a kid. But the difference was that this was actually magic. Though, now that he had it in hand, he had to admit that he had his doubts. It was clearly made for a child half his size. What if the claims were bogus? He'd be fifty bucks down with a tattered costume and major humiliation... 

"Well, here goes nothing..." He took his clothes off and began to put this tiny costume on. The first thing he noticed was just how stretchy it was. It actually stretched to fit his entire body, albeit incredibly tight. He felt like if he were to move any part of his body, it would suddenly rip. He waited motionless for a few seconds until he noticed the room expanding around him. He was shrinking! It was like the costume was pulling itself back to its original size, and it was taking him with it. He felt a weird wooshing as he crept closer and closer to the floor. Within minutes, he had become a kid-sized Loki. He couldn't help but marvel at what had happened. He stroked his face, now smooth and lacking his distinctive goatee. He felt energetic and care-free. And most of all, eager to go trick or treating! He just had to make one little arrangement...

One More Round

"fuck ur one hot dilf... i'd fcukin kll to b tat sexy at ur age. wanna get toggether some time??? i got a hard dock wiht ur nmae on it"

That was the message Isaac had sent while drunk last night, along with several embarrassing, innuendo-laden emojis. He couldn't stop cringing when he reread it the following morning. He had to stop drunk chatting up guys on his dating apps. He was barely able to type, and always came off as horny. Usually it led to nothing but being ghosted by potential hook-ups. Yet somehow, his drunk forwardness had brought him some luck. The DILF in question, a hunk by the name of AbrahamHarker1704, contacted him back.

"I would love to. See you tonite, handsome."

Since then, he'd been waiting impatiently all day. What if he was a catfish? What if he wasn't interested? What if he bailed? Finally, the doorbell rang. Isaac made a last minute mirror check, smoothing down his unruly curls, and straightening his shirt, before opening the door. He couldn't help but gasp as he saw the man on the other side. He really was a DILF. Stark silver hair, short scruff across his lantern jaw, and a beefy body just bursting out of his clothes. His bare arms were coated with silvery hairs, and the curls of chest hair peeking out from his shirt collar made him swoon.

"Hey there. You are Isaac, right?"

Isaac blushed, he realised he was simply staring. "Sorry, yes, hi. I guess I forgot how stunning you looked..."

"I've been told I have an alluring presence from time to time." He flashed a beautiful smile, and Isaac could have melted. The two stared until Abe coughed, and gestured inwards. "So... Can I come in?"

Isaac blushed once more, and stepped aside. "Of course, yeah!"

As Isaac closed the door behind him, he felt the man tug on his shoulder, spinning him around, and planting his lips directly on his own. Abe leaned back with a cheeky grin. "Mmm, you taste as good as I hoped you would..."

Hijacked

Charlie's fingers danced across the aged leather pouch, eager to empty it of its goods. He grinned as metal clattered against the surface of his desk, admiring the emerald studded ring that fell from within. He'd had his eye on it for a while. It was calling out to him, begging him to buy it. He checked that antique store almost daily, hoping someone else wouldn't snatch it up before he had the chance. Then finally, he'd saved enough money, and here it was, in his possession. He lifted it up in his hands, admiring the simple design.

"Finally! It's been years!"

He gasped, and spun around. "Hello?" Charlie called out to his empty house. "Dad? Are you home?"

"I ain't your dad, kid!"

There it was again! A deep voice that was so clear in his head, it was as if they were in the room with him. Yet there was nobody about. "Who are you?" He called out. "Where are you!?"

"Cool it, kid. I'm right here in your hands."

He looked at the ring in his palm. "Wait... My ring can talk?"

"Not talk, per say," the voice explained. "More like mental communication via physical contact. I'm in your mind, kid."

"Oh... Well I'd prefer it if you weren't, Mystery Voice."

As Charlie proceeded to place the ring back on the table, the voice called out. "Woah, woah, woah!" It screeched, bringing him to a sudden halt. "Ain't you curious as to why I'm communicating with you?"

He was. But Charlie also knew that nothing good could ever come from cursed jewellery. Yet he couldn't unclench his fist. He sighed. "Okay, I'll bite."

In The Moonlight

My roommate has always been a little odd, ever since I moved in with him. Don't get me wrong, Harry's a swell guy. Kinda tiny, and thin as a rake, pretty clean-cut, mostly keeps to himself. And we get along just fine, I can't even recall a single argument. But then he has these moments, it feels like it almost happens every month. I'll invite him out somewhere, and he says he has other plans. Then he'll go out all night, and I won't see him for a few days. He never talks about it. Which is weird because it's definitely something. One time, I looked in his room for some spare deodorant, and found a whole wardrobe full of leather, and kinky toys. Not that I'm judging, everyone gets their kicks some way. But he never brings anyone back to the apartment, I've never even seen him leave the house with the stuff.

For now, Harry's on crunch time at work, putting in long hours and weekends to get their current project done and dusted. He's been so frazzled, I don't think he's even been eating right. So to cheer him up, I decided to treat him to a night at the Wood Cabin, a decent pizzeria on the edge of town.

"I really shouldn't..." He mumbled as we got out of the car. "Pam wants the updated papers tomorrow morning."

"C'mon, you're working too hard! All that stress causes grays, you know."

"Right..." he scratched at his head with a frown. His temples were scattered with premature white hairs. Poor guy's not even thirty yet.

I reach over and pull him into a tight squeeze. "C'mon! It's just one night, my treat. Plus, it's two-for-one Thursday. We might even make the end of happy hour if we hurry."

"Wow, half price pizza, and five dollar cocktails? You're really pushing the boat out, cheapskate." He shook his head. "Besides, I believe you'll find that it's Wednesday today."

"No, it's definitely Thursday. Dragscapades drops new episodes on Wednesdays, and that was definitely yesterday. You've been working non-stop since last week, after all."

"But- No... I never lose track of time... I can't..." Harry glanced at his phone, then up to the sky.

"It happens, it's no biggie. Just think, you're one day closer to the weekend." I went to nudge him jovially, only to realise he wasn't with me. I glanced back, and he was running in the opposite direction, towards the woods.

Neighborhood Creator

A few months ago, my dad found some old PC game from the 90s while we were at a flea market. Something called Neighborhood Creator. I didn't think you could run things that old on new computers, but he managed to get it set up without any trouble. It was a life simulation game, which I think is a boring game genre, so I never wanted to play it myself. Yet, Dad was hooked on the thing. In a matter of days, he'd created a whole town, and treated it like a real place. If the graphics weren't so dated, I swear it could've been our actual town. It was a little creepy. 

Weeks passed, and he spent all his free time watching over his virtual town like a god. He already had a job playing and reviewing video games, so it seemed like overkill. My mom and I would try and get him to leave the house, but he wouldn't listen. He became a shut-in. Eventually, my mom left him for another woman, and he barely seemed to notice, acting like it was his own decision. Then I was offered a place at a prestigious private school, and I knew I had to take it. I didn't want to leave my dad alone, his obsession with the game was unhealthy, but I also didn't want to be around him any longer.

Not Always Greener

I pulled up outside my old house and sighed. I can't believe it's really been a month. I thought it was going to be a breeze. Hell, I even thought I'd conveniently misplace the brooch, and never go back. But modern teen life definitely wasn't how I imagined it would be. I'm almost glad to be going back to living my old life, even if it wasn't exciting. It was a mistake to consider playing out my fantasy. At least I know Brent is going to be pleased to get back to his own life too...

I knocked on the front door, and was a little dismayed when Frank opened the door. It was strange to see him after a full month. It was crazy how much I missed his beautiful face, his warm touch... "Oh, Gerald," he said with a smile. "What a surprise! I wish you'd called ahead, I was just about to head out."

I was surprised. Didn't Brent let him know I was coming? We did mark today's date down in our phones, just in case we forgot. I smiled and nodded, saying, "Don't worry, I just came by to see my uncle. We have things to discuss."

"He's outside in his usual spot," Frank replied, patting me on the shoulder as he left. I shuddered at his touch, I couldn't wait for things to get back to normal. He turned on his heel, then added, "If you stick around for dinner, I'm making my famous meatloaf."

I waved him goodbye, knowing I would definitely be around for dinner. His meatloaf really was the best. I couldn't wait to sit at the dinner table with him, gossiping about the neighbors, and complaining about work. It's the little things you miss... 

Ring of Desire

Tension was brewing between Martin and his Uncle Jim. He was staying with him while the rest of his family went upstate to support his brother's debate team in the regionals. Martin had hoped he'd be alone for the week, but staying with his uncle was a nice alternative. They were kindred spirits, both enjoying the same music, the same movies, and the same baseball team. The only problem was that Martin's easygoing nature clashed with Jim's sternness. So when he switched off the TV, claiming the upcoming game would be on too late, Martin didn't take it well. As he stomped upstairs to his room. Jim called out, "Where are you going, little man?"

Martin huffed, "I'm gonna play Minecraft."

"At this hour?" Jim asked. "If you can't sleep, isn't there any homework you could do? Or maybe you could clean your room a little. Dirty clothes belong in the laundry, after all."

Martin ignored him and slammed his door. He didn't think he could last another day with his constant rules. So he reached into his bedside table, and pulled out a tacky looking ring, the kind you might get for 500 tickets as an arcade prize. Except, Martin had bought the ring from a thrift store for a dollar. It was no ordinary ring, it had strange powers. It could grant any desire of the person using it. From making the bed to changing the universe, there were no limits to what the ring could achieve. The powers would last until the day he discovered his ultimate desire. At that moment, the ring would vanish, sensing he would no longer have the need for it. It could take hours, or it could take years. He knew this, of course, because the ring told him when he first put it on.

Mixed-up Reservation

"Hi, we're here to check in? Should be under Arden."

The woman at the guest check-in tapped the name into her system, and asked "Aha, Jack Arden?"

"Huh? No, it should be Michael... Jacky's my son," Michael said, pointing to the bright-eyed boy next to him, who gave a little wave. 

"Really? That's peculiar..." She tapped a few more times. "We do have a Michael Arden signed up to our kid's activity club."

"It looks like your computer's made a mistake," Michael said with a huff. "It must've got confused when I pre-booked the kid's stuff for my son. Isn't there a way to fix it?"

"Of course, sir. Let me just get your room sorted, and we'll get things switched around for you, post-haste."

After getting their room number and door keys, the two dumped their suitcases on their respective beds, and, while Michael started to put his clothes away, Jack jumped into the bathroom to put on his swimsuit. Moments later, Michael heard his son yell out, "Dad, my trunks are too small!"

"What?" He turned to see Jack wearing a bright red pair of trunks, which looked significantly outsized for him. Michael gaped and exclaimed, "we only bought them last week! They were baggy as anything."

"Yeah, but now they're really tight! I don't wanna go swimming in my underwear!"

"You won't have to, bud." Michael frowned as he dug into his suitcase. His son did look larger than usual, as if he'd had a growth spurt in the past fifteen minutes. But that wasn't possible He tossed him a pair of his own. "These'll be real big on you, so tie them up super tight!"

"Okay, thanks!" Jack ran back to the bathroom to get ready. Michael chuckled to himself, if only he had that type of energy. All he planned on doing this vacation was relaxing. As he himself got ready to leave, he gazed at himself in the mirror. He couldn't place it, but he was looking refreshed as ever. His skin looked radiant, he even looked slimmer, his perpetual love handles almost missing. The first day of vacation, and he already looked well rested. That must be a new record!