This page contains a Flash digital edition of a book.
Isn’t That Odd?t That Odd? A


SLEEPY ANNIE PEERED OUT HER KITCHEN WINDOW AND ACROSS TORO CANYON. A CHARCOAL SKY WITH A SMUDGE OF ORANGE SIGNALED THIS NEW OCTOBER MORNING. SOON IT


WOULD BE HALLOWEEN, SHE THOUGHT.


While she fed her pumpkin-colored cat, her new husband, Robert, snored loudly from the bedroom. Stepping out the front door to retrieve her newspaper, Annie walked through a large spider web.


“Oh, damn!” she said. It had happened again! Robert was a cautious man and liked to keep the front porch light on. Overnight, the light drew moths and since the beginning of fall it had attracted larger and larger spiders and their resulting webs. This morning, for instance, a moth the size of a hummingbird hung there lifeless ‒ trapped. Such small spiders, Annie pondered, but they were able to capture creatures so much larger than themselves.


“Isn’t that odd?” she thought. “Isn’t that odd?” After Robert left for his teaching job at Adult Ed, Annie walked down the hallway to


her ceramics studio where she made the hand- built pots she sold. Since she and her husband had only been married weeks before at Lions Club Park, wedding gifts were still arriving. In fact, Annie would often be interrupted by Mr. Friendly, the deliveryman with Global Air Express. She did not welcome this because, ironically, Mr. Friendly did not have the character trait his name would so directly suggest.


Something else was bothering her, too. After receiving concerned phone calls from friends over several weeks, Annie concluded that some of the smaller wedding gifts had not been delivered. “Isn’t that odd?” she thought. “Isn’t that odd?” Returning from lunch at Zookers one day, she asked an offended Mr. Friendly and he checked his records.


“Yes,” he snorted. “I delivered ’em here. Your neighbors must have been swiping them off your porch.”


As Mr. Friendly turned to leave, he spotted a black spider the size of a hamburger bun. “Not afraid of spiders,” he blurted, then


fiction


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40  |  Page 41  |  Page 42  |  Page 43  |  Page 44  |  Page 45  |  Page 46  |  Page 47  |  Page 48  |  Page 49  |  Page 50  |  Page 51  |  Page 52  |  Page 53  |  Page 54  |  Page 55  |  Page 56  |  Page 57  |  Page 58  |  Page 59  |  Page 60  |  Page 61  |  Page 62  |  Page 63  |  Page 64  |  Page 65  |  Page 66  |  Page 67  |  Page 68  |  Page 69  |  Page 70  |  Page 71  |  Page 72  |  Page 73  |  Page 74  |  Page 75  |  Page 76  |  Page 77  |  Page 78  |  Page 79  |  Page 80  |  Page 81  |  Page 82  |  Page 83  |  Page 84  |  Page 85  |  Page 86  |  Page 87  |  Page 88  |  Page 89  |  Page 90  |  Page 91  |  Page 92  |  Page 93  |  Page 94  |  Page 95  |  Page 96  |  Page 97  |  Page 98  |  Page 99  |  Page 100