Dale was demonstrating to his children how to best peel an orange using a knife when he accidentally cut off his finger. They phoned for an ambulance and it set out immediately only to crash into a cyclist at an intersection. The cyclist was killed. At the cyclist’s funeral, or more particularly at the cup of tea afterwards, old Mrs Clifton choked on a cucumber sandwich and was beyond revival by the time anyone performed the Heimlich manoeuvre. At Mrs Clifton’s funeral, Jack met Rachel and they fell in love and got married and Rachel was expecting but it was an ectopic pregnancy and they lost the baby, but later they had another baby who grew up to be a tyrannical man who beat up his wife and children, and one of the children was a malfunctioning individual and murdered three people, all of whom were destined to become great artists of one sort or another, but their careers were through before they had even started. The painting that one of them was destined to paint, and never did, would have been lost in an attic for decades only to be found by a destitute widow who was trying to feed her eleven children. She could’ve sold it for millions. One of her eleven children was the great-great grandchild of Dale, who was now home from hospital minus the missing finger, and was about to demonstrate to his children once again how to best peel an orange using a knife when his wife declared vehemently DON’T YOU DARE! DON’T YOU DARE!
For well-nigh forty years Jarden had harboured visions of murdering his wife. It’s not that he wanted to murder her. It’s just that he had flashes of pictures enter his imagination of his wife lying in a pool of blood on the kitchen floor. Or pictures of her drowning in a lake. Something like that. And he thought each time that he could commit such a murder, but he didn’t want to. He couldn’t understand why such thoughts and images entered his mind in the first place.
Forty years of marriage had however been tiresome. He longed for it to end one way or another. And now, after forty years, he was having his first affair. His nauseating wife was definitely in the way. His visions of her murder became suddenly more attractive.
He was saved the trouble! His wife accidently drove over a cliff, plunging into the river. She was pinned beneath the car and the little life left in her was drowned.
Jarden couldn’t believe it. It’s always a shock one way or another. “I can’t believe it,” said Jarden to this man called Harry. “How much did you say I owe you?”
James was driving along quite comfortably. His three year old daughter was strapped into a safety seat in the back.
James needed to make a turn into a side street. He had plenty of time to turn, even though there was an oncoming car travelling at speed towards him.
Just as he turned two young skateboarders began to cross the road right in front of him. No warning; nothing. They hadn’t even looked. James had to make an instant decision: does he screech to a halt in the middle of the turn and avoid the skateboarders, or does he plough into the skateboarders and prevent his daughter in the back from being struck by the approaching speeding car?
A parent’s instinct is stronger than anything else. The court case is next week.
Ramon was going for his daily run around the Blue Mountains Road when he got the side stitch. He stopped for a little rest and recovery.
The view from the Blue Mountains Road was wonderful. The road wound around sharp corners, with beauteous cliff faces and plummeting crevices. The view went for miles. It was a good road to use for a run because it was scenic, and there was very little traffic.
Suddenly, a van came around the corner. The driver had attempted to take the curve too fast. The van went over the edge of the road and began tumbling down the mountain. Its roll was stopped by a large knotted tree.
Without thinking, Ramon raced down the steep hill. He reached the van. Several passengers were seriously injured. He was able to call for help. The recue people arrived, and all nine passengers were taken to hospital. It was a wonder there was no fatality.
Ramon thanked his lucky stars. There was no doubt that getting the stitch in time saved nine.
As Janine backed the car out of the garage to take the two children to school she knew she’d run over the children’s pet cat. There was a bump.
“What was that?” asked Pedro.
“The car needs tuning. I have to take it in to get fixed later today,” said Janine.
She dropped the children at school, came home, gathered the dead cat, and put it in a box.
She would tell the children the cat had died. They could bury it in the garden and plant flowers on its grave. Then there would be the lengthy business of finding another kitten – Which one? Which colour? Which sex? Which size?
Thanks goodness Janine was experienced in the matter. It was their fourth cat in two years.
An optimistic saga with three alternative tragic endings to choose from
Fred had a nice set of coffee mugs – all with sort of old-fashioned adverts on them. There were twenty-one mugs in all. He loved them. He kept them on a shelf in the dining room, just high enough to reach with a stretch. His wife hated them.
• One day, as he was standing under the shelf an earthquake struck. A mug fell off, hit him on the head, and killed him.
• One day, as he was in the dining room his distraught wife threw a mug at him, hit him on the head, and killed him.
• One day, Fred came home and had a nice cup of coffee and a cookie. Nothing could be more relaxing. Unfortunately he choked to death on the cookie.