Tag: Dark

Secret Club

“Secret Club” by Holly Sheidenberger

The kids in my class had a secret club. So cool.

Till they tricked me into missing the meeting by lying about the time.

Sadistic jerks.

My therapist told me to start my own club.

I invited the two coolest dudes from work, Andy and Kent, to join.

They were totally pumped, I could tell. Looking at their phones the whole conversation. Checking their calendars. Clearing their schedules.

The dudes won’t even discuss the club. Got to keep it confidential.

I texted them the password, code names, and the secret handshake.

This club is going to rock. Andy and Kent are lucky I picked them.

Sucks that they’re late. Forty-five minutes late. The Red Vine straws are dissolving in the root beer and the Cheetos are getting stale.

I know they’re stoked about this. Wonder where they are.

They’ll be here.

Soon.

They will.

Alarmed

“Alarmed” by Holly Sheidenberger

It was June. Dale was sleeping soundly when his alarm jolted him awake.

The clock said 7:10.

Odd. He’d never set the alarm for 7:10.

That evening, during Jeopardy!, a startling sound made Dale jump. He spilled his Miller Lite.

The faulty alarm clock was blaring again.

It was 7:10.

Dale tried to reprogram the alarm. But it screamed promptly at 7:10 every morning. And evening.

Desperate, he yanked the plug from the wall.

Mercifully, the clock faded, as dark and silent as death.

Until 7:10.

It blazed to life, incessantly flashing its warning: 7:10 – 7:10 – 7:10.

Dale couldn’t take it any longer, so he smashed the clock with a hammer.

Then came July. Dale was exhausted. Every time he laid down, he saw those dreaded numbers, haunting him, keeping him awake.

He took some pills to help. Too many pills.

He never opened his eyes again.

The date on his tombstone read July 10, 2019.

Seven Ten.