I once met a guy online, and for about two weeks, we exchanged emails, texts, and chatted on the phone and on Facebook. Finally, we arranged an actual date. But we were both so eager to meet that the day before, we decided I’d pick him up after work (I finish late, around 9 p.m.) for a quick evening walk. I arrived at his house at the agreed time, but instead of him,

My family had recently moved to a new city, and it was my first semester at a new school. I walked into the classroom one morning and saw our homeroom teacher surrounded by a small group of my classmates, all engaged in a lively conversation. Curious, I approached them and asked what was going on. The teacher smiled at me and said, ‘My family is expanding—we’re going to have a daughter.’ Excited, I squealed, ‘That’s wonderful, congratulations! I’ve been noticing for weeks now that it looked like there might be a little one growing in that rounding belly, but I didn’t want to say anything.’ An awkward silence followed, with my classmates giving me strange looks. My teacher’s face turned red, and she softly replied...

In my house, there was never a trash can in the bathroom. Any waste was usually flushed down the toilet, unless it would cause a clog, in which case it had to be carried downstairs to the bins for sorting. There’s a big mirror above the sinks in the bathroom. Relaxing in there is nearly impossible because morning and night, every member of my large family needs to use it. One evening, I went into the bathroom (important detail: I had my period that day), locked the door, undressed, and decided to stick my used pad to the mirror above the sink—so I wouldn’t forget to throw it away later. I took a bath, changed into fresh underwear with a new pad, wrapped myself in a towel, gathered my clothes to toss into the laundry, and returned to my room. Lying in bed, I had this nagging feeling I’d forgotten something, when suddenly I heard someone scream at the top of their lungs, followed by heavy footsteps. Whoever it was, they were running around the house like a madman. I couldn’t make out what they were yelling, but they sounded terrified. Then I heard it clearly: ‘MOOOMMMM!!! THERE'S A BLOODY PAD STUCK ON THE MIRROR!’ It was my older brother, absolutely horrified. I turned beet red with embarrassment. My mom asked if I actually thought the mirror was the same as a trash can. My brother, shaken to his core, couldn’t believe what he’d seen reflected back at him instead of his face when he looked in the mirror while washing his hands. I tried to explain that I just didn’t want to forget it. ‘Next time,’ my mom said, ‘stick it to your forehead if you’re that worried about forgetting

This happened about a year ago. A new, very attractive girl had been working at the company for a few weeks. We’d spoken a few times, and things were going well. The following week, I was supposed to be working with her on a project, and I was really looking forward to it. It was Friday, and after work, I headed to the bus stop. By chance, I ended up sitting in the bus directly across from her, face to face. We exchanged a few words—nothing special. She got a text and had to reply, so I took out my phone and started scrolling, though I wasn’t really doing anything. At some point, I accidentally turned on the flashlight feature. The bus was dimly lit, so the bright light from my phone was really noticeable. I quickly turned it off, embarrassed. That’s when I realized that the flashlight uses the camera's flash. I had only turned it on for a second, but I was holding the phone pointed directly at her, at knee height... and she was wearing a skirt, a short skirt. I felt hot, my face flushed with shame, and I stammered, ‘Sorry... I didn’t mean to... wrong button...’ But it was too late. She stood up and got off at the next stop. I think she was crying. The weekend passed, and I went to work, ready to explain myself. But as soon as I walked into the office, there was complete silence. They knew.

A few months ago, one evening, while taking out my contact lenses, I made a mistake and used a regular lens case with solution that requires a special case. The solution contains hydrogen peroxide, and in the right case, there’s something that neutralizes it after a few hours. However, the case I used didn’t have that neutralizer. The next morning, when I put my lenses in, despite rinsing them, my eyes started burning like crazy and tearing up immediately. I could barely see, and the pain was unbearable, so I decided to wait it out while sitting at my computer. I had Facebook open. A co-worker had invited me to her birthday party a few days earlier, but I couldn’t go because I already had other plans. On Facebook, I noticed she had posted some pictures from the party. I couldn’t see clearly because my eyes were watering, but it looked like a bunch of girls hugging and raising their hands in the air. So, I left a comment: ‘Mmm... such hotties, too bad I wasn’t there ’. Then I closed Facebook and forgot about it. A few hours later, when I checked back, I was greeted by comments like ‘What a creep’, ‘Go get help’, and ‘That’s not funny’. It turned out that the photos weren’t from the birthday party, but instead…

Yesterday evening, my sister and I were in the kitchen when her phone rang. It was an unknown number. I love messing with her, so, much to her dismay, I answered it, putting on the dumbest voice I could manage: ‘Hello, this is the secretary speaking, how can I help?’ The person on the other end hung up. My sister snatched the phone from me, called back, but it was busy. She tried again a few minutes later, and...

This summer, we went to mountains with my girlfriend, her sister, and her sister’s two daughters (ages 7 and 5). It was unbearably hot, and we were crammed into a car without air conditioning. I was in the back with the girls, while my girlfriend sat in the front passenger seat, and her sister was driving. The radio was constantly playing awful kids' songs, and the heat was suffocating. The girls wouldn’t let us open the windows because ‘it was too windy.’ Pure torture. About halfway through the trip, I started feeling unwell. My stomach was hurting, and I could feel the pressure of building gas. Being a somewhat polite person, I didn’t want to stink up the car, so I held on as long as I could. Eventually, it became unbearable. I decided to take a chance, hoping it wouldn’t be too bad, and no one would notice. I leaned forward discreetly, and soon enough, sweet relief. But the smell... it was far worse than I had anticipated. Before I even had a chance to seal the deal, my girlfriend’s sister asked, ‘Who did that?’ No one answered. The girls stayed silent. The stench was so strong that her sister assumed one of the girls had had an accident and asked, ‘Did one of you have an accident?’ The girls denied it, but the younger one suddenly burst into tears. It was almost like a confession, so we pulled over at a gas station. The girls were rushed into the restroom by their mom to check their underwear. I told them I had to pee and headed to the men’s room to check my own underwear, as I had my doubts (thankfully, they were clean). When I came back, we waited a few more minutes for the girls to return, the five-year-old still crying. Her underwear was clean....

Today, I renewed my phone contract and got a new smartphone. I played around with it at home, then went to visit my girlfriend at her place. We were sitting and chatting with her parents and brother when the conversation turned to phones. I proudly showed off my new gadget, and her dad got really interested, so I handed it over for him to check out. He played with the camera, adjusted the settings, took a few pictures, and messed around with filters—just normal stuff. Meanwhile, I got into a conversation with my girlfriend’s brother. Suddenly, I hear her dad exclaim, ‘WHOA!’ I turned around, looked at the phone screen, and there it was...

A few years ago, I was with some friends at Disneyland in Paris. One of the attractions was a space simulator where the ship gets caught in a meteor shower. Everything was shaking, sparks were flying, and people were grabbing onto whatever they could to keep their balance. Suddenly, the lights went out, everyone screamed, and we were plunged into darkness. Instinctively, I reached out to grab a handrail, but my hand hit something surprisingly soft. I quickly pulled back, confused by what I had just touched. When the lights came back on...

This happened last year. One morning I woke up and saw a medium-sized spider on the ceiling, spinning a web in the corner of my room. My brain was still half-asleep, so I stood on the bed and tried to blow it away. I’m not sure what I was expecting—maybe to kill it with my morning breath? After a few blows, it looked like the spider was barely holding on. I was preparing for the final blow, but then...