Stickman's parachute didn't open.

Stickman's parachute didn't open.

Neither did his milk bottle earlier that the morning.

Fortunately his whiskey bottle did. Taking a swig and realizing he should shower, he took the bottle with him. As if on cue, his phone rang. No doubt it was her.

And boy was she mad. He picked up the phone and all he heard was her constant nagging, he didn't want to do this with her over the phone so he

the body in the basement until you get home or should I take care of it myself?" "How big was he?" "Big, bigger than you." "Bigger than me, you got that good a look?" "The eye wand

ers despite itself, sometimes." I shook my head and left to deal with the body. The basement stairs creaked as I slowly made my way down. Sure enough, the dark, human-sized lump on

the back wall of the cellar wasn't just throbbing now, it had grown twice its size. "Crap." I muttered, dropping the body to the cement. "Well, it's wet work time," I said scanning

the cellar walls for further hallucinations. Finding none, I prepared the concrete mixture and dropped the body into the hole as the back wall undulated in the corner of my eye.

My last coherent thought as the body disappeared into the hole was, "But I thought they were just hallucinat..."