Monsters are always seen this way. Scrached skin, ugly dresses, satanic kind and poorly deadbody that breaths out sometimes........ The man was in the dark hole no matter the dead or live.... represents a mind blasting shout of silence.....!!

Jeech

Can I play too. hahaha! Sounds like fun to me.

Hugs Corinne.... Here goes!

----------------------------------------------------------------
"Oh my gosh, I tripped over a dead guy!"

The man sat up in the gutter. "I'm dead?"

"Oh, you're not! Thank goodness."

"I'm not? CRAP!", and he laid back down.

The man laid in the gutter with spit running out of his mouth and Angel looked down and said, “What are you doing there? Don’t you have some other place to go; You’ll catch your death laying down there in the rain.”

“I want to die. With luck maybe I’ll drown and it will all be over once and for all.”

“Come now, there is nothing so bad that you can’t find a solution.” The girl reached down and tried to get his hand. “Whatever it is I will help you figure it out.

He looked up at her and asked, “What is your name?”

“Angel”.

“I knew it. I am dead.”

“No you’re not dead! I’m talking to you. You’re alive. “

“How can you be so sure? Do you know who I am or where I came from?”

She shook her head from side to side. “Can you sit up? We can talk. Maybe I can help you.”

He smiled, took her hand and began to rise from the wet cement.

She smiled back. “Hey, that is much better. Let me buy you a cup of coffee and we can talk about what is wrong. Okay?”

He was holding on to her hand and seemed to follow along like a little boy as she led him into a coffee shop and to a booth in the back. She hoped that no one she knew would see her with this bummy looking guy, but she could not just let him lay there in the pouring rain in the gutter. It wasn’t in her natures. She called the waitress over and ordered two cups of coffee.

The odd stranger sat there smiling like a Cheshire cat and it was beginning to unnerve her.

“I’m glad to see you smiling, but I don’t see what is so funny. You were trying to kill yourself out there in front of the store where I work. Now tell me, why do you want to die?”

“Oh! I hadn’t planned to die. Just to snag an unsuspecting female that would feel sorry for me, like you.”

“You what????? You low down sorry piece of......”

He started to laugh. “Smile you’re on.... Candid Camera”

Glad I made you laugh LinnAnn. I thought it was a great ending. hahah!

I sent this to a friend of mine in Georgia named Hoyt Brown and he tried another approach. Here is his suggestions. I sure was surprised at his idea.
Hugs Corinne

Resurrection
The Branding Iron neighborhood bar had just closed, and down the street, steeped in the aroma of frying eggs and bacon, cutlery clattering and the hubbub conversation almost drowning out the country singer wailing from the jukebox about blackberry wine and lost virginity, Joyce Prembrook sat quietly across from her friend Sylvia.
A mug of coffee cooled in front of each woman. Lost in her thoughts, Joyce stared out through the window examining the occasional car that drove past and tried to identify each one as Jeffery’s red and white Buick she had ridden in so many nights as she and Jeffery turned the corner just a few feet away passing by this very Waffle House after their Friday and Saturday night dates.
Sylvia, trim and blonde, put her elbows on the table. She rested her chin in the palms of her hands, and said, “Give it up Joyce. He’s not coming back.”
Joyce tore her eyes away from the street and gazed at her friend’s soft features framed by short, soft red hair. “I can’t.” she said softly. I just don’t understand.”
Sylvia’s green eyes hardened. “What’s to understand? Not a word from him in two weeks. He’s dumped you.”
“I can’t count the times Jeffery said the only thing that could ever keep us apart was death. Sylvia, he must be either dead or in the hospital, He’s gotta be.”
“Give it up, Girl. Yes, you look like Lonnie Anderson, but remember Burt Reynolds dumped her too. Besides, what can happen to a guy who sits behind a desk all day?”
Joyce frowned. “My looks have nothing to do with it. He loves me for who I am.” Both women looked up when a man paused at their table.
Frank Gilmore, dressed in brown cowboy boots, jeans, and a red and white Western shirt, smiled down at them, but Frank’s best smile always resembled a sneer. A lock of curly black hair had escaped from his Stetson hat and hung artfully down his forehead. He said, “I saw y’all up at Tony’s. Would y’all like some company?”
Joyce turned her gaze back to the window. Sylvia gave him a wan smile. “Not tonight, Cowboy.”
The two women exited the restaurant out into a warm June night. Joyce said, “Take my car. I need to walk and think, besides a two-block walk over to my apartment will be good for me.”
Sylvia answered, “OK,” and waved goodnight, as she tore out of the parking lot in Joyce’s bright-red 2-seater BMW convertible.
Beginning her short walk home, Joyce headed across the street. She stepped off the curb, and shrieked, "Oh my gosh, I tripped over a dead guy!"
The man sat up in the gutter. "I'm dead?"
"Oh, you're not! Thank goodness."
"I'm not? CRAP!" He lay back down.
“Jeffery! Is that you? I didn’t recognize you under that beard. What’s happened to you?”
Jeffery winced in pain as Joyce struggled to pull him into a sitting position. “Jeffery, why are you laying in the gutter looking like a bum? And where have you been the past two weeks?”
Groaning, he answered, “I have a confession. I’m not an office manager for an insurance company. I’m an undercover narcotics agent, and I fluffed this case good. The bad guys caught on and held me captive for days. Finally they took me for a ride, tossed me out of the car, shot me, and drove off thinking I was dead, but I think the bullet just grazed my right arm.”
“Can you stand? Do you have any broken bones? I’ve got to get you home.”
“Na. No bones broke. I’m just bruised up good from that tumble out of a moving car.”
With Jeffery’s good arm around tucked firmly around Joyce for support, the two limped down the sidewalk. Joyce said, “Are you really a nark agent?”
“Yes, but I don’t feel like one now. The good guys are supposed to win.
“I’ve been working on this case for months and I was getting close to the top honcho, but now all that work is down the drain. They even knew my real name.”
Jeffery stood swaying, ready to collapse at any second while Joyce unlocked her door. She helped him inside the posh apartment, but Jeffery had no interest in the décor that looked like it had been carved from the inside of a cloud. Joyce led him to the bathroom and sat him down at the dressing table. She removed his shirt and cleaned his wound.
Jeffery muttered, “I feel like crap.”
“What you need,” Joyce answered, “is rest and sleep.” She rummaged through the medicine cabinet, took two pills from a bottle, and filled a glass with water. She put the pills in Jeffery’s mouth one at a time, and urged him to drink the water.” She sat on the floor and removed his shoes. By the time both shoes were off, Jeffery had slumped in the chair, snoring.
Joyce made sure Jeffery was sleeping and not just pretending, then she walked into the living room, plopped down on the couch, and dialed her phone. “Frank, she said, “come over right now and get this piece of s*** out of my bathroom. Jeffery was actually going to put our asses in jail. Bring a couple of the guys to help.”
Frank answered. “OK, Boss Lady. We’ll be there in 15.”
The next morning Joyce sat across from her friend Sylvia as they heartily devoured eggs, hash browns, grits, toast and coffee.
“My my,” Sylvia said. “That walk home last night must have cleared your head.”
Joyce smiled brightly and her whole face lit up. “Oh gosh yes. You just can’t imagine how much good that little walk did me.
“Say, do you remember that guy that stopped at our table here last night.”
“Uh hu.”
“I’ve been thinking. I’m going over to the Branding Iron tonight and see if he’ll pick me up.”

Hi Corrine,

Loved the unexpected twist at the end. Reminded me of a friend who unfortunately had an alcohol problem, went to AA meetings, and soon realized some men were there just to pick up women!

Thanks, kganz

Taking a shot at this, let me know what you think :)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh my gosh, I tripped over a dead guy!"

The man sat up in the gutter. "I'm dead?"

"Oh, you're not! Thank goodness."

"I'm not? CRAP!", and he laid back down.

Emily tentatively nudged the man with her toe. “Excuse me, but if you aren’t dead why stay in the gutter?”

The man opened one eye slightly, eyebrow arching as he looked at her, trying to determine if she was real or not. “It makes no difference little angel where I lie. You see every morning I rise and every evening I die in some strange way only to reawaken once more with the rising of the sun. Perhaps today I will simply lay here and wait for death to find me once again.” The man pressed his eyelids back together hard.

Emily scrunched her face up puzzling over this mans strange tale, searching for a solution with her young mind. “My father says he sleeps like the dead sometimes,” she offered after a few moments, “are you sure that is not your problem.”

After emitting a deep sigh, the man once more opened his eye to look up at Emily with an annoyed look. “Yes little angel I am sure that I am dead each time. Just last night in this very alley a robber stabbed me, stealing what little money I had left and leaving me for the crows. Yet this morning I wake once more, alive and unharmed.”

Emily bit her bottom lip, thinking harder, the voices of her parents ringing in her head. Wipe your feet, eat that broccoli, no wait, those wouldn’t help! Surely, her parents had said something important that would help the man.

“You really shouldn’t stay by me too long angel. I would not want to be responsible for having you harmed when death comes for me tonight,” the man’s words broke into Emily’s struggling thoughts.

Suddenly, Emily had a flash of inspiration, a thing she had once heard her father saying to a friend before a long trip leapt to her mind. “That’s alright poor man. I won’t trouble you long, since you are so ready to wait quietly for death, but before I go let me tell you one thing, the most important thing my father ever said. Each end is a new beginning so enjoy the journey between them and all will be well.”

Emily smiled down at the man one last time, then turned and left the alley. The man opened his other eye and stared up into the clear sky above, pictures of the wife and children he left behind so long ago flashing in his vision. Pushing himself up from the mire of the gutter he resolved to find his way home to them no matter how many times death hunted him. He would enjoy the journey and find his new beginning.

I just love happy endings Prism. Nice little perky moral there!
love, LinnAnn

Sarah wants to know why any of these can't be funny! Anyone want to try a funny one? lol
love, LinnAnn

"Oh don't tell me you can't come again,I'm so tired of you letting me Down and down again, I used 2 trust you Ian, What happened"Said Jestu talking on the phone
"I'm sorry Jestu but I really have an important meeting and I can't be there in your gallery, plz don't be anoyed Baby!,It's just......"
"whatever" she said while closing the line in his face then she took out a cigaret and went out the art gallery for a smoke in the dark alley behind the gallery, while lighting her cigaret, she felt that she steped on something, she lightend a match and looked down

"Oh my gosh, I tripped over a dead guy!"

The man sat up in the gutter. "I'm dead?"

"Oh, you're not! Thank goodness."

"I'm not? CRAP!", and he laid back down
" oh what are you doing sitting like that in the middle of that cold place, you looked dead 2 me"

"I wanna be dead, I tried to get rid of him and I couldn't do it"
"Him, who's he?"
"Lary!!"
"And Lary is who?"
"shhhhh, Don't say his name out loud or he can come out to us"
"what?,I think you need treatment, let me call an ambulance"
"Nooooo, Plz don't,I wanna kill Lary tonight"
"Ok, Whatever" she then left back to her gallery
The man then begins 2 talk to himself, "Ohh Lary you're dead tonite, No more games"
He then took a penknife out of his pocket and cut his veins
While Jestu is back, she couldn't leave him alone
"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, my god he's dead this time"
"helo, I ned an ambulance right now in...................................
End

Howdy folks, well I'm going to use some cheek and seperate the lines, try to spread them out a little, hope you all dont mind.

The day was warm; a gentle breaze eased its way up the road that Jacob found himself hurrying alongside. Caught by the winds ethereal fingers: Jacob, an overly sensitive man, shivered lightly and drew his jumper down further over his wrists.
To be blunt the man was an idiot, born and bred an idiot into a family of idiots, he was lacking the most fundamental sense, and his wit was still waiting in line at the queue to get tickets for his brain. It was precisely this stupidity that, whilst concerned with a mild wind and his own temperature, he stumbled on the pavement, lost his footing and tumbled into the gutter.
It would have been a lot worse, had his fall not been broken by something large and fleshy. His mind wracked with odd thoughts he muttered, "Oh my gosh I've tripped on a dead guy."
He couldn't face touching the corpse with his hands, and instead rolled off of it, his back hitting the gutter with a dull thud. He lay there panting, watching the sky roll above him. Many things entered his mind, few things ever found their way back out, but there was one persistent thought, something intense that worked its way into his visual cortex. It highlighted the unusual nature of finding a dead guy in the street, sure there was no-one around now, but it hadn't always been that way.
It was a shame the thought didn't hang around really, but it got lonely and left. Leaving Jacob with an eye full of sky, and a big dead guy.

At the edge of his vision a figure emerged, someone sitting up briskly. Someone he had failed to notice on his fall, someone who would probably have been better to trip over. However the man sat up in the gutter, "I'm dead?" he asked of nobody in particular.
Jacob was almost inclined to agree, but the man was failing to prove it conclusively to him. It was all the looking about and sitting up that brought about the doubt, and though Jacob was slow there was something decidedly none dead about him. Lifting his chin so he could look at the man, who was now intrigued by the corpse to Jacob's left and trying desperately to look without moving. Jacob smiled and said, "Oh, you're not!"
"Thank goodness!" The man said with a returning smile. His face almost glowing with delight until something clicked in his head, something urgent by the change that he underwent and he countered with "I'm not?CRAP!" and laid back down.
This last seemed to make Jacob smile, something in his simple head admired the determination of this man, trying so hard not to accept he was alive. It worked with his own limited logic, and though squeezed from depleted function Jacob started to believe he had found his first role model..

lol a jumper is a large, usually knitted, piece of clothing, we also call them pullovers, I dont know if you've heard that one, but I think I like your version better, it fits with Jacob's stupidity.

A queue!! I'm surprised you dont know that, it's the great british tradition of standing in an orderly line waiting your turn. We're all incredibly good at it, and should there be evil ones who perhaps skip a place they will be glared at until their shame is complete.

The full term was "decidedly none dead", basically saying that he didn't look dead to Jacob. It's probably my dodgy English, it crops up every now and then, but it's usually in tandem with an obscene laziness, so I may or may not sort it out...lol

Hehe, glad you liked, that last line was a killer for me too :)