October Story
Oct. 19th, 2015 03:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
charisstomaTitle: The Case of the less coffee in the pot than should be.
Author: charisstoma
Word count:388
Prompt:What do you call a fat pumpkin? Plumpkin.
Leslie frowned at the coffee carafe. No one had been in that morning except him and he was just now able to pour out his first mug and yet there were two cups of coffee missing from the level in the carafe as if someone had taken a mugful. He’d set it up to make 12 cups, carefully watching the water level in the clear window that indicated how much water was being added. If you went over that 12 cup mark the cleverly evil manufactures had put holes in the back of the water reservoir and you ended up with water running spilling out over the counter.
Since he was strange like that, he asked the nearest object, not the coffee maker since obviously it was in cahoots with whoever was sneaking its coffee, where the missing coffee had gone. This just happened to be the pumpkin surrounded by a wreath of greenery sitting on the counter, one of the numerous Fall Season decorations for the office. Understandably the pumpkin didn’t reply, sitting quietly in its nest with a distinct glowing orangeness about it.
Every day Leslie made coffee. Every day two cups of it would disappear at a time without the aid of any living person. Leslie just assumed that it would be gone by the time November ended. It wasn’t until someone tried to move the pumpkin that a new mystery was presented. It sloshed.
Rotten pumpkins are not pleasant thing to have around the lounge so very carefully the heavier than should be, liquid filled pumpkin was removed to the nearest outside location. Leslie didn’t think anything more about it but as he locked up the building late that dark evening the pumpkin glowed up at him and being like he was he wished it good night.
Walking quickly away, because being the only one around in the dark parking lot with only slight illumination from the light poles is creepy, he could have sworn he heard a burp and the hiss of good night follow him.
Monday morning the pumpkin was withered down to a rumpled empty shell surrounded by a large puddle of thin brown liquid. Leslie tried not to look too closely and he didn’t mention it to the coffee maker which made 12 cups as it should from then on.
Author: charisstoma
Word count:388
Prompt:What do you call a fat pumpkin? Plumpkin.
Leslie frowned at the coffee carafe. No one had been in that morning except him and he was just now able to pour out his first mug and yet there were two cups of coffee missing from the level in the carafe as if someone had taken a mugful. He’d set it up to make 12 cups, carefully watching the water level in the clear window that indicated how much water was being added. If you went over that 12 cup mark the cleverly evil manufactures had put holes in the back of the water reservoir and you ended up with water running spilling out over the counter.
Since he was strange like that, he asked the nearest object, not the coffee maker since obviously it was in cahoots with whoever was sneaking its coffee, where the missing coffee had gone. This just happened to be the pumpkin surrounded by a wreath of greenery sitting on the counter, one of the numerous Fall Season decorations for the office. Understandably the pumpkin didn’t reply, sitting quietly in its nest with a distinct glowing orangeness about it.
Every day Leslie made coffee. Every day two cups of it would disappear at a time without the aid of any living person. Leslie just assumed that it would be gone by the time November ended. It wasn’t until someone tried to move the pumpkin that a new mystery was presented. It sloshed.
Rotten pumpkins are not pleasant thing to have around the lounge so very carefully the heavier than should be, liquid filled pumpkin was removed to the nearest outside location. Leslie didn’t think anything more about it but as he locked up the building late that dark evening the pumpkin glowed up at him and being like he was he wished it good night.
Walking quickly away, because being the only one around in the dark parking lot with only slight illumination from the light poles is creepy, he could have sworn he heard a burp and the hiss of good night follow him.
Monday morning the pumpkin was withered down to a rumpled empty shell surrounded by a large puddle of thin brown liquid. Leslie tried not to look too closely and he didn’t mention it to the coffee maker which made 12 cups as it should from then on.
