A Bumburp in the Dark: By Devin J. Meaney

Tilda spent the weekend by herself, and her husband wasn't supposed to be home for another few days. He was away for work, and although she enjoyed her time alone with her chocolate ice cream and her Netflix—Tilda was missing him dearly.

After watching a few episodes of her favorite show she decided it was time for bed. She turned off the reading lamp that was beside her, and after half an hour of tossing and turning she managed to fall into a restless sleep.

As if all of a sudden—she was awoken by loud bangs coming from the kitchen. Her mind spiraled.

What is that noise? Who is in my house?

Her mind went to all of the worst case scenarios she could think of. Is it a serial killer? A demon of the night? Maybe a psychotic man in a clown suit?

She raised the covers above her head and hid amidst the sea of pillows that were covering her bed. She was not very courageous, and whoever or whatever it was—she knew there was nothing she could do.

She heard more loud bangs, and Tilda held her breath so the home invader wouldn't know she was there. The banging continued, and now whoever or whatever it was—it was making its way up the stairs! Tilda stifled a scream—and just as a million possible horrors were birthed within her mind—she heard it.

Coming forth from the stairwell—was a bumburp. A bumburp in the dark. Soon, her husband opened the bedroom door.

"Honey—I'm home!"

Tilda jumped from the bed, wrapping her husband in a tight embrace. The smell of the pickled eggs he had just eaten engulfed her nostrils…

…And she never felt happier to smell him in her entire life!