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Leave Your Doors Open

I'm showering at the Bates Motel. Through the shower curtain, I can see a form moving toward me. "Who's there?" I scream.

"Mother Bates," a cackling woman's voice says.

"Do you have a big nasty knife?"


"Is it real sharp?"


"Let's see," I say, pulling open the shower curtain.

She hands me a nasty-looking butcher knife.

She's right. The blade couldn't be sharper.

"Wanna change places?" I ask.

"Sure," she says, stepping into the shower.

I slash her, Norman her loony son, the entire cast, crew, and Alfred Hitchcock. I never saw so much blood. Too bad I'm not a vampire.

While you've been reading this, I've been hacking your computer. Now I know who you are, where you live. I just took your picture with a camera hidden inside the period at the end this sentence.

Make my day. Leave all your doors open whenever you shower.

Story by:

Michael A. Kechula

submitted at 11:30pm

6 March 2011

Michael's 3 collections of flash and micro, and his boo,, "Writing Genre Flash Fiction The Minimalist Way - A Self-Study Book" available at and