Not a hundred percent sure if it fits in humor but I cant think of where else to put it. It's not a horror. If you don't think it fits do tell. A member of my writters group often writes rather morbid poetry so one week we challenged him to write something birght and happy while we wrote something morbid about finding a dead body. This is the best I could do. Enjoy.

"Neek!" cried the goth as she tripped over the London city stock broker. The ground came painfully in contact with her already grazed knees and palms. That was twice she had tripped up today and it was only nine-thirty in the morning. That, coupled with the ominous crows circling impatiently around the parks leafless trees, probably waiting for the quickly oncoming rain clouds, all gave her the impression that this was not going to be a good day. Then there was also the burnt toast, broken hair straightener, missing keys and the fact that her alarm had failed to go off, meaning that she was late for her exciting job as a waitress at Carla's Café. Yep, the Omens were set for a horrid day, she was sure of it. But then she saw Omens like this most days. It gave her something to do on the way to work.

Slowly she got to her feet and let out an exasperated sigh whilst brushing the dirt from her knees. Well at least it wasn't bleeding, the first good news all morning. Turning to look at the cause of her fall she locked sight on a leg. Shiny black, slightly scuffed shoe, plain black trouser, and a gray sock with a single red stripe. At the knee the leg disappeared into a thick bush and the goth prayed to Sash that it was still attached to more behind the leaves. With a quick look at the park grounds in search for hidden cameras, she moved in for a closer inspection of the limb. She didn't know what would be worse; finding a dead body or being the fool of some strange Trigger Happy TV prank. Personally she hoped that it was just some drunk as she really couldn't afford time for anything else. As it was her boss was going to have a few agitated words concerning her punctuality. This was the forth time in the last fortnight that she had been late.

Through the bush she could see the vague outline of a suited man but only when she separated the leaves did she see his pallid face. She froze. His eyes were open and they stared unseeingly in her direction. Shocked, she stared back till she realized she had been standing there for several minutes and her back ached from leaning forward. There was no doubt in her mind that he was dead, partly because of the lack of movement of his chest and the thin blue lips, but the biggest clue had to be the gaping bullet hole in his forehead. It looked small, brutal and deep though surprisingly there was no blood on his face. Disquietened, she rubbed her own forehead then moved in to examine the rest of the body. The corpse had been stuffed quite neatly into the relatively small bush but unfortunately for the goth his left leg had slipped out and tripped her up. There was a sudden temptation to check his pockets for a wallet: find out who this poor soul used to be, plus if there was a wallet and money then she'd be able to tell people that it had been more than just a mugging gone wrong. Only she had seen enough episode of CSI to know not to touch anything at a crime scene.

"Bad luck mate," she said as she straightened up and dialled 999 into her mobile. A dog walker passed by as the goth described her location to the smooth voiced woman on the line. The dog, a small jackrussel, barked and tugged madly at its lead as it reached the goths feet. She smiled and wished the apologetic dog owner 'Good morning,' before continuing to listen to the 999 phone operators calming words. The dog walker returned the greeting before staring confused at the well dressed leg. The goth couldn't help but smile to herself as the dog owner cast several confused glances over his shoulder as he disappeared into the distance.

"Your fired!" Barely five seconds had passed since she had walked into the kitchen of Carla's Café, before its owner Sam snapped out those words. Straight faced the goth flatly replied, "I found a dead body in the park on my way to work and the police made me hang around to answer questions, if you don't believe me then you can call Detective Inspector Tyler, who gave me his card in case I remembered anything else." Silence. Everyone in the kitchen was staring at her in shock. Sams lips moved soundlessly as he struggled for something to say. "Well… uh," he finally said, "in that case your not fired. So, uh, get on with your work and uh… don't let in happen again," and he rushed out of the room. Immediately she was surrounded by questions. 'Well,'she thought as she tied on her apron, 'the day could have gone worse, at least I got to keep my job.'