The Confabulator Cafe

Category: Confabulation

  • The Boy with the Golden Eyes

    When I first met Flick, it didn’t occur to me that he was a strange creature. He had a pair of jet black wings sprouting from his back, beautiful golden eyes, and a mouth that never smiled. All I saw was a sad little boy who needed my help. His wing had been injured and his shining eyes had a haunted look that always stayed with me. I was only seven then, and I had spent two lonely months out in the middle of nowhere, desperate for a friend.

    I gathered supplies and helped him doctor his wing while I told him about my boring summer vacation in the country. In return, he solemnly told me of beautiful places beyond the clouds that he was afraid he’d never see again.

    By the end of that day, we were laughing together as we ate freshly baked cookies and drank cold milk. That night, I dragged sleeping bags and pillows to my treehouse to make him comfortable. I told my parents I was making a fort and wanted to camp outside. They were relieved I was out of their hair, so they let me. Flick and I ate our midnight snack, bundled up in the sleeping bags, and fell asleep snuggled together under the stars.

    (more…)

  • When Dawn Breaks

    She sat in a stained cotton chemise, half a moth-eaten blanket wrapped about her shoulders for warmth. Outside her cabin, the wind gusted, pulling free the reddening leaves and leaving bare branches in its wake. Her dress lay crumpled in her lap as she carefully stitched sleeves onto it. The worn fabric tore from too many years of carefully removing and replacing the sleeves. Each rip brought with it a fresh wave of tears.

    Her sister fell ill at winter’s end last year and she wasted away for months before succumbing to death’s embrace. When the flies brought summer’s plague, she lost her mother who had never quite regained her will to live after burying her eldest daughter as she had her youngest years before. This winter she was alone. This winter she had no one to huddle against for warmth at night on her lumpy, straw mattress. (more…)

  • May Stories at the Confabulator Cafe

    The Confabulators are always looking for different types of prompts to fuel our creative endeavors. Thus far, we’ve used both themes and specific words for our stories. We thought we’d try something different this month. For May, we are using a photo prompt.

    The Confabulators have played with the idea that a picture is worth a thousand words before. This time, we all wrote a story in response to the same picture. The internet fairies chose this photo for us to write about.

    Enjoy this month’s stories, and think about where you might have taken a story based on this photo.

    Join us for new fiction using the schedule below:

    Monday, May 11: “One Last Harvest” by Jack Campbell, Jr.
    Monday, May 18: “When Dawn Breaks” by Eliza Jaquays
    Monday, May 25: “The Boy with the Golden Eyes” by Sara Lundberg

  • The First Step

    This short story takes place in the world I created for my 2012 Nanowrimo novel, There’s No Place Like Hell. The novel is still unfinished, but this short story uses the main character, Kit, and would take place between the first and second book of this series. I do hope to write Kit’s books someday, but there’s a bigger plot involved that hasn’t completely revealed itself to me yet. I have other projects to finish up before Kit gets her turn, but when the Confabulator Cafe was assigned the “three steps to world peace” prompt, Kit raised her rifle and told me this story needed to be about her. How could I refuse?

    Once upon a time, there were three steps to world peace. In the end, only the first one mattered.

    Kit checked her weapon for the hundredth time. The damn thing was still jammed, of course. She still carried it for show, although it was useless as far as a projectile weapon. But it was a rifle, so it was useful as a blunt force weapon if nothing else. And it kept her from looking helpless.

    She snorted. Nobody would ever mistake her as helpless. Not with the mercenary reputation she had built for herself.

    (more…)

  • Copy Rights

    “Isn’t that you getting punched in the face by Ron Artest?” Cinco watches a YouTube video of the brawl on his workstation while I try in vain to walk a woman through the technical issues she’s experiencing on our open enrollment system. I mute my call. The woman continues on like I am still listening. I know what she is saying. I’ve dealt with this same call hundreds of times, maybe thousands.

    “His name is Metta World Peace, now.” I release the mute. “Ma’am, did you log in with your PIN? Yes, your personal identification number. Okay, I’ll wait while you look for it.” (more…)

  • The Monologue

    I’m Doctor Samuel Tan. You probably recognize me from my numerous interviews, my now-defunct talk show on that awful cable channel, not to mention my picture on the cover of Omni Science magazine’s “10 Scientists to Watch in the New Millennium” issue back in 1999.

    I dropped off the public’s radar for a few years, because I’ve been working on a special project.

    What I’m doing is intended to bring peace. That’s all I ever wanted—all any of us ever wanted. Building a utopia isn’t easy, not even for me.

    As a child, my IQ had been measured beyond genius level—the largest ever recorded. With proper schools and training, my brilliance grew. I graduated with several doctorates, in a variety of sciences, and moved into research.

    Fate had given me the mental acuity to solve some of the universe’s most challenging problems, and I met each one head on. I won grants and awards. I felt as if nothing was beyond my grasp. Along the way, I invented a quantum constructor that revolutionized industry by building machines from the atom up. Soon, I had the money and the resources to do anything.

    I wanted to do something big. I needed a challenge. Idle hands, as they say.

    (more…)

  • The Book

    Moira left the front door open and slumped down on the steps to President Carlton’s private residence. He was in Geneva with the others. The Secret Service sequestered his family in a ‘safe place’. Like there was any place anywhere that was safe. The Enemy already controlled half the world.

    A warm breeze carried the scent of flowers from the north side of the house. Nothing mattered now. She knew exactly where Carlton and the other leaders of the free world were. Though it would be fruitless, she still wanted to go to them. Her friends in the diplomatic corps would welcome her, she’d be among friends.

    It would solve nothing, though.

    No use feeling sorry for herself. Just to make sure, she looked at the book Carlton sent her to retrieve. “You’ll know it when you see it,” he said with a sad smile then gave her the combination to the safe. It took ten hours, one flight on Air Force Two, one car from the Secret Service and she opened the safe and found the object of her quest.

    Unbelievable. Of course she knew it as soon as she saw it. Its improbable title, 3 Steps To World Peace, astounded her. So simple. It was a slim book with no author. The hard covers were thicker than the paper they bounded. Moira opened it to the first page. She’d already read it inside the house but she felt the need to be sure she hadn’t missed anything.

    Snapping the book closed, Moira looked up at the maples. Just turning, the thick leaves hid a couple of jays talking to one another. No crying, she told herself. You don’t know who’s watching. (more…)

  • Fwd: !Urgent – WORLD PEACE is In Your Hands

    Hello my dear woman. I hope that this email finds you well because I am in very great need of your help.

    You do not know me, but my parents are the King and Queen of a small, but very wealthy, nation. My parents, the King and Queen, feel that it is important for even their youngest child to give something back to the people. Because of that, I have been using my vast leisure time thinking very much about WORLD PEACE.

    I have in my possession a three-step plan to enact WORLD PEACE.

    (more…)

  • Against Stone Doors

    The first step to achieving world peace, she decided, was to get everyone’s attention. If the whole world focused on a single, miraculous occurrence, they would have no time to fight any longer. She considered stopping the sun or making all of the stars go dark at the same time, but those weren’t really things she had control over. Not without asking the gods for a favor she wasn’t sure she could afford to pay back.

    So she tried to think of things on a smaller scale. She could set fire to all of the forests at the same time or dry up all of the rivers. But then the nature sprites would be upset and she didn’t really want to hurt all of those innocent animals. Not to mention, it would be nearly impossible to coordinate an effort that massive. Plus, seeing as she didn’t have the magical ability to start fires or dry up rivers, it would require another favor from the gods—and while this one probably wasn’t quite as major, depending on the mood of the god it could end up being worse. Being indebted to the gods was never advisable, no matter how small the debt. Trying to outwit them to get what you wanted for no cost even less so. (more…)

  • Hallways

    It wasn’t my favorite place to be – honestly, I could think of dozens of places that I’d rather be – but considering it was well past three in the morning, my options were pretty limited.  The only restaurant still open at this hour would be swarming with drunks at this time of night, and all of the fast food places were either closed or drive-thru only.  I’m not sure why any bakery would be open twenty-four hours, but the donuts were good, and I guess if the employees have to be here to start baking, you don’t really lose much by never closing.

    I’d stashed my work clothes in my car, but switching them out in favor of shorts and a t-shirt wasn’t enough to prevent me from reeking of taco meat and cleaning chemicals.  It was probably my hair, absorbing sweat throughout the night underneath my hat.  Well, hopefully it wasn’t as noticeable as I thought it was.  Normally I’m not very self-conscious about my appearance, but she’s here again tonight.

    It’s been almost three weeks since I moved into town.  I’ve been able to talk to a few of my friends over email, but it’s not the same.  I was hoping to meet new people, but my coworkers are just… so unlikeable.  Sure, it’s fast food, so I don’t have high hopes, but usually there’s at least one or two people who are passable humans.  And maybe during the day, there are.  But Carroll’s got me working night shifts, and you can just feel the poverty and broken dreams weighing everyone else down.  Add in the part where I don’t watch sports, and you’ve got the perfect mixture of absolutely nothing in common.

    My mother suggested that I get out of the apartment more.  And she’s not wrong, but it’s easier said than done when your sleeping hours take place during everyone else’s afternoons.  I tried the coffee shops for a while, all two of them that are open past midnight, but they’re filled with different sorts of crazy.  Maybe I’m being too picky.  The bakery hasn’t been too much better, except for her.

    (more…)