Horror Stories

I had been coveting a pair of earrings from Etsy for quite some time, and my repeated hints to the boyfriend fell on deaf, deaf ears.  Eventually, I bought them for myself.  I wear them most days.  They’re 9 mm green amethyst studs, for crying out loud; they demand to be worn.

Most horror stories don’t start out this way.  But what if, instead of a buxom blonde, our star was sparkling green earrings?

It was a dark and stormy night, and the woman had just finished evacuating her bladder.  She reached for a new roll of toilet paper with one hand, and with the other, dropped the empty cardboard roll like it was the magazine of a gun.  The new cartridge securely in place, it was time to get up and wash up.  But fate had other plans.

Suddenly there was a sproing as loud as a pistol shot, followed as quickly as thunder follows lightning by a pop and the splash of water on the woman’s thigh.  Bewildered, she checked the toilet paper apparatus.  Usually, the sound of a released spring indicated the escape of the axis from the toilet roll holder, but not this time.  This time, following the distinctive metallic sound, the toilet paper was right where it was supposed to be.

Then, realization hit in a wave, a wave of horror so profound the woman had but two options: action, or catatonia.

She chose action.

A quick up with the pants, a quicker hand wash, and a shout, “Shit! my earring is in the toilet, do you have a flashlight?” and the wheels were in motion.

The man, disgusted, perturbed, amazed, but most of all, confused, entered the bathroom with a flashlight as the woman stripped off her vintage Esprit sweatshirt to expose her forearms.  “Do you need me—” he started to say, but the woman was ready for what lay ahead.  She took the flashlight, shone it into the depths, and sighed to steady herself when her earring glinted back at her.  But that glint was not a mischievous “Glad to see you”; it was a warning.

She began to reach in.

“Woman!  Stop!” cried the man.  Something in his tone made her pause (this is a horror story, not an actual movie).

“What is it?”

“If you go too far, you’ll hit the valve, and it will flush!”

The enormity of the situation hit her for the first time.  She wasn’t just rescuing her jewel from a tank of pee.  She, herself, could have flushed it away with her careless eagerness, her maverick desire to save it at all cost.

“Thank you, Man,” she replied, truly grateful, aiming her flashlight with her left hand, plunging her right into the urine.