The Purple Sofa is a short scary story about a policeman who is investigating the case of a missing man.
“When did you last see your husband?” the policeman asked.
“Yesterday morning,” the woman replied. “He was sitting right there on the sofa when I left to go shopping. When I got back, he was gone.”
“Have you contacted his friends?” asked the policeman.
“Of course,” said the woman. “They haven’t seen him either.”
“Did he take anything with him?” the policeman asked.
“Nothing,” the woman replied. “His keys are still on the hall table and his coat is still hanging in the closet.”
“How about his shoes?” the policeman asked.
“They’re still sitting by the front door,” the woman said.
The policeman sat down on the purple sofa and thought for a moment. Despite what the woman said, her husband had probably gone off and left her, he thought. Perhaps he had a gambling problem or maybe a girlfriend. That was usually what it turned out to be in cases like this. Love and money, those were the two most likely scenarios.
“Do you have a picture of your husband?” the policeman asked.
“Yes, of course,” the woman said. “I think there’s one in the kitchen. I’ll just go and get it.”
The policeman watched her leave and then yawned. The purple sofa was very comfortable. He stretched himself and leaned back, sinking into the plush cushions.
Without a sound, the sofa slowly extended itself and folded gently over his head. The soft cushions engulfed his whole body as the sofa quietly ate him.