Ficlets

Jona sighed and set his shoulders. More wasted time sorting through junk emails. He had begun to wish he owned a truly private email account.

The first was from mother. Glancing through it, he moved on. The next few were various advertisements for some fairly unmentionable acts. In the process of selecting them for deletion one in the middle caught his attention.

The sender’s name as well as the subject were blank. He blinked twice before clicking on it. He looked blankly at a column of apparently random text. Preparing to delete the whole thing, his name jumped at him from the bottom of the screen. Scrolling up, he began to read.

“Jona Sparro, a seemingly insignificant man had stumbled across a message that both fascinated and frightened him. Who was writing this? Where did it come from? Who is at the front door with a gun? .. and why?”

He jumped as a knock cracked from his front door. He gasped, only now realizing he had been holding his breath. He rose shakily and walked toward the door.