Just an Ordinary Day

For Matthew Lament, it was just like any other ordinary day. He awoke to the first songs of the early birds, drew open his curtains and looked out onto the quiet street. Nothing new, apart from a freshly laid but healthy looking dog turd on the pavement outside his house. That reminded him to go to the toilet.

Matthew was a retired eighty two year old pensioner who spent most of his days completing jigsaw puzzles and crosswords. He pulled down his baggy pyjama bottoms and slowly lowered his body onto the toilet seat as his knobbly knees creaked. He sat for a few minutes and squeezed. Nothing; not even a fart. He reached for a tray of jigsaw pieces from an adjacent cabinet and began to piece it together on his lap.

Five hours later, nothing had dropped into the crystal clear water of the toilet bowl. He gave a squeeze. Nothing; not even a fart. He sighed and smiled, and continued working on the puzzle.

Another two hours passed. The water was still as untainted as upstream mountain water, the only difference was that this water was bored, it wanted action; that was when the telephone rang. Matthew sprung up from the seat and ran into his bedroom to pick up the receiver.
'Hello, Matthew Lament speaking.'
'Hi dad, are you busy right now?'
'Not really, just trying to pass the time.'
'I hope that you haven't forgot, it's your grandson's birthday today, you said that you would be here about an hour ago.'
'I'm sorry Wirrel, I was just on my way out of the door, I'll be over in about half an hour.'

He flushed the toilet on the way out.

It was Mike's birthday, he had all thirty of his friends over at the house. For a five year old, Mike was wise beyond his years; he had unlimited internet access and watched his father's porno videos when his parents were asleep. His father had promised that his grandfather, Matthew, would come over and tell a story to Mike and his friends.

When Matthew arrived, his grandson's friends had already left. Mike was sulking in the corner and brandishing a bread knife. His parents were asleep in bed.
'Hi Mike, I'm so sorry I'm late.' began Matthew.
'You promised to tell a story grandpa.' growled Mike through tear drenched eyes.
'I know, I know, I got caught up, I had to take a dump on the way here.'
'I don't believe you! You always use the same excuse!!!' shouted Mike, as he clenched the knife tightly and thrust it repeatedly into an imaginary foe.
'Put the bread knife down, Mike.'
'NO!' Mike stood up and charged at his grandfather.

The bread knife caught the back of Matthew's wrist and he felt it's teeth plow up his skin. Blood streamed down to his elbow as he lifted his arm up to inspect the damage. There was no sign of Mike, he seemed to have vanished. Suddenly, he heard the rapid patter of feet behind him. Slash! Too late, again he felt the bread knife make contact, this time severing a tendon behind his knee, causing him to collapse to the ground. Mike was out of sight, but he could hear his fiendish laughter.