Goodreads asked C.R. Johansson:

Can you tell us a two-sentence horror story?

C.R. Johansson He yawned, plodding to the bathroom like a robot, taking care not to step on Newton as the cat slinked in between his legs, and doing his best to wake up by reciting code sections quietly to himself. Still pleased with his recent decision to buy a heated toilet seat, he sat in comfort and continued his recitation when the cat retched, its body contracting until a finger, covered in bile, landed on the bath mat where it curled in and out signaling to him to draw near.

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