The Confabulator Cafe

Author: slundberg

  • Bone Deep (A Witch’s Daughter #3)

    The ebony-black door had been permeating my dreams, its silver bolts, inlay, and door latch glimmering as if winking at me. Dream me stood before it, and I hefted a small key carved from bone in my hand. The blackness of the empty keyhole called to me, and I leaned forward.

    “Come away from that door, child. There’s only black magic that way.”

    My eyes flew opened, and I had to blink away the image of the door from my sight.

    I looked around the tower, but the Hags weren’t paying me any attention. I’d thought one of them had spoken, but if they had, it hadn’t been vocally.

    I wiped drool from my chin as I sat up, struggling off the beanbag chair I’d fallen asleep in. My leg was asleep, though, so I rolled over onto my back, sprawling out on the plush rug that covered the lounge area of the Hags’ tower.

    (more…)

  • Blood and Darkness

    We lay naked, spooning, on her four-poster bed, the silk sheets having been thrown back during our nocturnal activities. I curl my body up, trying to avoid skin contact, but she curls more tightly around me, not letting me get away, this time.

    “It will only hurt for a second, my love.” Her voice is nearly a purr in my ear. I tuck my hair behind my ear to keep it in place, to keep her breath from making it dance, tickling me.

    “I don’t care about the pain.”

    She traces a finger along my side, and I force myself not to flinch.

    “What is it, then?”

    I take a measured breath to avoid sighing. “You know what.” I may not be afraid of pain, but I am afraid of death.

    “Oh, dear heart. You shouldn’t fear that. You are strong enough.”

    Her tone, rather than making me feel better, makes me feel worse, like she’s talking an ignorant child, lying about how bad the day’s rations were going to taste. We always knew.

    “How can you be sure?”

    (more…)

  • Christmas All My Life

    Dear Santa,

    My name is Jessica and I am eleven years old. I am writing to you to tell you what I want for Christmas.

    I don’t want toys. Mommy and Daddy buy me lots of toys. I don’t want clothes. Gramma always gets me clothes. I don’t want books. We go to the library once a week, and I am scared if I have too many books, Mommy won’t drop me off at the library anymore. I like the librarians. They are nice.

    All I want for Christmas is a friend. I don’t have anyone to talk to. I get lonely a lot.

    Hope you have a merry Christmas.

    Love,

    Jessica

    __

    Dear Jessica,

    I don’t normally write back to Christmas list letters, but you are a very special girl. I wanted to make sure you got your Christmas wish, so as my gift to you, I will be your pen pal. Please write to me whenever you are feeling lonely.

    Love,

    Santa (more…)

  • Matter of Time

    Jacob rummaged in between the couch cushions so loudly that Jennifer finally paused the TV and harrumphed.

    “What are you even doing, Jake?”

    “My pretzel fell down in there.”

    “So? Get another one.”

    “I don’t want another one. I want that one.” He rummaged some more. “I don’t get it. It should be right here.”

    Jen sighed, stood up, and pulled the couch cushion off the couch.

    The twins stood staring at the under-the-couch-cushion for a moment before exchanging a glance.

    “Is that…?” Jen started.

    “Hey look! It’s the remote Mom said I lost! It was right here the whole time!” Jake grabbed the remote and held it aloft in triumph, apparently forgetting the lost pretzel.

    “It can’t be. We tore the couch apart looking for that thing.” Jen crossed her arms. “We didn’t get to watch TV for a week until the new remote came. There’s no way it was here the whole time.”

    Jake shrugged, tossed the remote on the coffee table, then settled back down with his bowl of pretzels.

    But Jen couldn’t settle. They’d lost that remote years ago. Two? Three? It was weird. How had it suddenly reappeared?

    She picked up the found remote and put it in a drawer in her room. (more…)

  • Apple of Her Mother’s Eye

    “Mom! We’re out of apples,” Alexa yelled, head stuck deep in the refrigerator. She couldn’t keep the panic from her voice.

    “Well, take a pear instead!”

    Alexa rummaged through the fruit drawer again, hoping maybe one rolled behind something else.

    “Alexa Dawn, don’t stand there with the refrigerator door open.”

    “Mom. I need an apple.”

    “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t realize we were out. I’ll grab some when I go to the grocery store this weekend.”

    “I need one for my lunch today.”

    Alexa’s mom sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you. We have to leave for school in twenty minutes. I don’t have time to get you an apple right now.”

    “But an apple a day keeps the doctor away.” Alexa grimaced at her mom’s nonplussed look.

    “That’s just an expression, Alexa. I’m sure you’ll survive a day or two without an apple in your lunch.”

    Easy for her mom to say. She didn’t have to deal with The Doctor at school. There would be a heavy price to pay if she didn’t give the bully an apple at lunch time. She could just hear the eighth grade girl taunting her. “An apple a day keeps the doctor away, little sevvie.” She usually made her watch her take every bite, but now and then she’d take one bite, then throw the rest away. (more…)

  • Witch Way (A Witch’s Daughter #2)

    I’m not lazy, I just do things in my own time. I had every intention of doing as the Hags asked, but I’d nearly reached my wits end with them, so they were just going to have to wait for me to run my errand first.

    “Don’t be too long, Rachel. You know we need that laurel wreath for the ritual tonight,” Marian said.

    “And do try to find a fresh one this time. The last one was so old and dried out, I’m pretty sure the sacred elements conspired to throw it out the tower window,” Sorita said.

    I resisted rolling my eyes. The laurel wreath wasn’t the only thing old and dried out in the tower.

    “Oh, and stop by the liquor store, will you? We’re out of Merlot,” Althea said.

    I sighed as I snatched up my bag and their shopping list. “You do realize I’m your apprentice, not your errand runner.”

    “Same thing,” Sorita said with a wave.

    “We do appreciate it, dear,” Marian said with a smile. Fake, I was pretty sure.

    “Be a good apprentice and run along, or I won’t share the mulled wine,” Althea said, and while the words were gruff, I could hear the affection there.

    “You wouldn’t dare.” I gave her a look of mock horror, and she gave me a shove.

    “Off with you.”

    As I made my way out the tower door, I could hear them discussing me.

    (more…)

  • Intergalactic Clown Thief

    I realized that I had made a terrible mistake. Well, maybe more than one, if I was being completely honest with myself. I never should have agreed to the parameters of the heist job in the first place. Dress up as a clown, they said. It’ll be an easy score, they said. Well, they can kiss my ass. I hate clowns, for one. Dressing up as one was hell. The face paint felt like shower grout and the wig itched worse than lice.

    All that aside, being dressed up as a clown put a giant target on my back for every little kid within a thousand miles. Do kids have clown sonar, or something? Two even followed me to the bathroom when I went to shuck my disguise and crawl through the vents to get to the heavily guarded room with all the jewels.

    “I hid a bag of candy back at the party. Look for something red, and you’ll find it.” That made them leave me alone, thankfully. And no, I didn’t feel bad, lying to kids. Not when I was about to rob the damn place.

    Ok. Maybe I felt a little bad. I decided to buy them a whole candy store once I robbed the place blind and fenced all the goods. (more…)

  • To Catch the Christmas Spirit

    Two days before Christmas, Vittoria embarked upon an excursion to the provincial village of Overbee. She was to meet her dearest friends there for a holiday retreat. It was just the thing they all needed: escape from big city life and away from the gossip that hounded them. Time to let Vittoria’s scandal blow over, Nicolette’s movie flop to be forgotten, and Sybil to forgive her mother’s most recent callousness.

    Yes, a quiet holiday was exactly what they needed.

    Nicolette had invited them to join her in Overbee—she shot a film there over the summer and fell in love with the picturesque setting, as well as one of the rich locals, whom she was visiting. Sybil had arrived before Vittoria, securing their rooms at a renowned inn at the town’s market district, since there was no room for them at Nicolette’s lover’s estate.

    Sybil’s last correspondence had caused Vittoria some concern, however.

    “Take the ferry to the village from Comstock. I will meet you at the dock. Do try to get there before sundown, though. There have been rumors of unsavory things happening after dark, and the dock is away from town enough that it would be best to make our way in the light.”

    Vittoria had allowed plenty of time for her journey, but after a series of unfortunate encounters, she was behind schedule and missed the mid-day ferry across.

    “Double damn,” she muttered as she watched the ferry disappear into the fog. With a heavy sigh, she paid the man at the ticket booth to lock up her belongings before she went to do some last-minute Christmas shopping in Comstock proper.

    By the time she returned to the ferry’s dock, the sun had set, and a deep chill had permeated the air. She was the only passenger for the last trip over.

    “The ferry knows its business. It won’t cast off again until you and all of your parcels have disembarked,” the ferry master said as he reinforced the magical command to take her across. “You have someone to meet you? Help with your luggage?” He nodded to her bags.

    “Yes. A friend.” Perhaps she should have packed more lightly.

    “You are set to go. Return trip, first of the New Year, correct?”

    Vittoria nodded.

    “Happy holidays, then.” And with a wave of his hand, the ferry slid away from the dock and into the sluggish river. (more…)

  • Lunar Trials (A Witch’s Daughter #1)

    When I went to unlock my front door one day, I noticed a glowing key on my key ring that hadn’t been there before. I had to pee and my phone was ringing, so I ignored it at first, then forgot about it.

    When I remembered the next day, I checked my key ring, ready to contemplate what it was for. But it wasn’t there.

    “Wacky imagination,” I muttered to myself.

    But I hadn’t imagined it, because a month later—on the day of the next full moon, to be exact—it was back.

    “Hello, key. Nice to see you again.” I held it up and examined it. “What do you go to?”

    The key, unsurprisingly, didn’t answer.

    My natural inclination was to procrastinate. Why do today what you can put off for tomorrow? And as I wasn’t presented with any unfamiliar doors with magical locks, it seemed easiest to not bother with it.

    But knowing it would be gone the next day added an intriguing layer of immediacy. I was curious. I was in possession of a key that would disappear the next day.

    So I wandered around with, my hand outstretched, as I made my way through my daily routine.

    There were no unusual doors in my apartment, on my walk to the bus stop, and certainly not on the bus. I ended up putting the key back in my pocket after several strange looks and a startled flinch from the bus driver.

    The bus arrived at the college campus where I worked and got off on my usual stop. I pulled the key back out and squinted at it. It didn’t appear to be any brighter or pulling me any specific direction.

    “Seriously, key. What am I supposed to do with you?” (more…)

  • The Humanity Mirror

    I am the happiest woman in all the world. I am about to marry the man of my dreams, and he has given me this delightfully magical mirror as a wedding gift. My complexion glows, my eyes sparkle, and as I twirl in my gown, I am beautiful. Nothing could be better.

    #

    After our first year of marriage, it appears some of my sparkle has dimmed. I gaze into the glass surface of the mirror, desperately looking for the sparkle in my eye and the glow in my cheeks. Perhaps the year of arguments and disappointment have taken their toll on my beauty. I have to hope that this next year will be better. He gave me a lovely pendant for our anniversary. But it pales in comparison to this mirror he gave me last year.

    #

    Each day it seems as if there is less life in my reflection. After every fight, I rush to the bedroom and stare myself down in the mirror. My eyes are squinty and hard and frown lines wrinkle around my mouth. Had I known this marriage would slowly suck the beauty—the life—from me, I never would have accepted it or this mirror.

    I don’t know what to do. (more…)