GBE2’s weekly prompt is to write three five sentence stories. Each story must be independent of the other stories. Sure. I can do that.
From the television set, Spiderman pointed his fingers and blasted the bad guy with his sticky web.
“Hollywood has it so wrong,” Spiderman said.
Spiderman stood and turned his back to Mary Jane and then sent multiple spider threads out of his ass with a loud fart. “Have you ever seen a spider spin a web from its fingers?”
Faint street lamps glow through the window of the office complex as Christopher yanks his work out of the printer and slides the papers into his briefcase. At half past ten, he knows he must head for home where his wife will question his late hours, again. Outside his office, a misty fog settles over the desolate parking lot, so Christopher taps his remote and is soothed by the flashing lights of his black Eos. As he curves around a bend of the deserted back street, something swoops out of the fog and splatters his windshield with the crimson blood of a fresh kill. With his heart pounding in his ears, Christopher slams his breaks and gingerly steps out of the car to see what lifeless animal will stain the road; nothing.
After standing in this forest for 237 years, my brittle arms grow tired of holding leaves that will only dry out and tumble to the solid Earth below. We've seen many of our friends die from the ax of a lumberjack, but I do not fear him for he will provide me with a new beginning. The wisp of a man dragging his sharp tool toward me can't be more than twenty and hardly seems like the executioner I've dreamed of for the past thirty-seven years—the time since I decided that I’d lived too long. The kid continually swings his ax into my trunk until I topple onto the rain-soaked ground. Now that I’ve been reincarnated into Fifty Shades of Gray, life has become more interesting than watching trees grow in the woods.