The Renovator

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic


Horror. Flash Fiction.

Submitted: March 25, 2018

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Submitted: March 25, 2018

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The Renovator

 

-  No son you can't let the garden gnomes into the house.

-  But they're my friends!

-  No!

-  But Mum...

The house stank of faeces.

He'd smeared shit all over the mirrors, to stop the glass people

from getting out.

He'd stretched black nylon stockings up the legs of the old

dining room table, to make himself aroused.

  He wore a gas mask, day and night, his mongrel dog fled in fright.

  He watched the swirls in the carpet transform into lizards that

crawled into his bowels.

  He burned holes in the ceiling, to let the stars get in.

  He cut up newspaper mice, and fed them to his old demented cat.

  He filled the oven with decomposing rats, and the bath with the 

garbage he never threw out.

  He painted the television screen black with white dots, and moved 

the computers to the shower, and turned on the water.

  He smashed up lightbulbs and threw them into the toilet bowl, so

it would never flush.

  His work around the home was never ending.

-  Son you should get some exercise, you spend to much time 

couped up in here!

  So he picked up an axe, and chopped his mother to bits, and 

fed the bits to the gnomes in the garden outside, who were now 

always welcome inside his home.

 

 


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