Oct 31, 2017 by Dorian Richard
TIGER, TIGER ON THE WALL
Frank always felt uncomfortable sitting under that thing. It was as if the mosaic tiger was constantly breathing down his neck. The worst was when his wife talked to it like it was a live cat. She had brought it back from an art tour Frank had dodged out of to go camping with his bud Rog. At least that’s what he had told her but of course, they had gone to Vegas instead. The trip had ended as always, with both getting wasted and Frank losing a shit load of money. This time she had refused to bail him out. Imagine that, after spending all this freaking money on a piece of stone artwork she refused to help him. She said she had enough of his gambling problem and that it was her money after all blablabla. Luckily Rog had put him in touch with some guy he had met in Vegas, someone who could make problems go away. All Frank needed to do was text one word and his wife’s money would finally be his. He looked at his cell, grinning. Wouldn’t it be ironic if she stood right in front of him as he literally spelled her doom?
“Michelle, bring me another cup of coffee,” Frank yelled. She stepped into the living room and sighed. “I wish you’d get your own coffee once in a wh…” Her eyes widened and the mug exploded into tiny pieces as it hit the ground. What the hell, thought Frank, how can anyone be that freaking clumsy? Then something hot and sticky made his neck hair crawl. He stared at his wife, afraid to move as he heard a deep growl behind him.
Moral of the story: Our mosaics are so real you’d wanna water them, hug them, eat them, talk to them, even put them on a leach.
If these stories made you shiver remember, there are always more tales lurking in the dark of our mosaic crypt. We wish you a Happy Halloween and remember if one door closes and the other one opens your house is probably haunted.
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Originally published at bit.ly.