The Confabulator Cafe

Tag: fairy tale

  • Clowning Around (Flash Fiction)

    Sometimes, when it’s quiet, I can remember what my life was like before the circus came to town.

    Don’t get me wrong. It sucked then too, but nobody had died yet, so there were advantages.

    Now I know you’re probably thinking, “Oh, God. Not another spooky carnival story.”

    Well it’s not. So shut up.

    I’m sick of that crap too. If this was one of those tales, I would’ve rolled over and died already rather than face the idea that I might have to write about it one day.

    I promise you, no carnivals.

    This is more of a creeper clown kind of thing.

    (more…)

  • Piper

    From Are You Afraid of the Dark
    From Are You Afraid of the Dark

    The first time Eddie told the piper to fuck off it was about a quarter to ten. We parked the car down the street. Eddie said there was a government conspiracy to wait outside of Mickey’s Bar for drunks, and he needed to throw off the cops. That meant a brisk walk through the biting January air. I didn’t want to carry my coat around all night, so I left it in the car. The north wind tore through me within a half a block. I hate the cold. I’ve been cursing my dad ever since he moved us here from southern California when I was ten. What sort of asshole moves his family from paradise to Kansas? My dad was that sort of asshole.

    Loads of panhandlers hung out on the street on Saturday nights. Drunk college kids with money in their pockets were easy marks. Eddie hated beggars even more than he hates people, in general.

    “Jesus Christ,” Eddie said. “The city is pulling a shelter out of my ass and these bastards have the nerve to ask for money?” (more…)

  • Upgrading the Grimms (Week of 20 January 2013)

    The Brothers Grimm spent a lot of time gathering tales from Europe during their lives and then publishing what they collected. Others did, too. These stories were told around fireplaces or to children at bedtime and were passed from one generation to the next. Traditional stories are lots of fun because they’re familiar. They can also become tired. We aim to solve that problem this week at the Cafe.

    Universally acknowledged by the regulars here a few weeks ago as one of the fun parts of the Cafe, our monthly confabulations this time take a classic turn. On special this week is each author’s take on a fairytale. Some may be obscure (there might even be a new one in there somewhere) and others will have that creeping sense of being cautionary. There will be sex, food, death, and certainly a villain or two.

    So we present our versions of fairytales for you to enjoy. Don’t get hung up on which tale it is, but see if you can spot what we’re saying about the times we live in.

    We take no responsibility, however, for last minute kisses from princes. And if you take a bite from that apple the witch is offering you, you’re on your own.

  • Once Upon a Time…

    When asked what my favorite book is, I mentally sifted through several. But my favorite of all books? One single book that enthralled me as a child, travelled with me no matter how many times I moved, and defined me as both a reader and a writer? That was an easy choice, once I weeded through all the books that came after.

    I don’t know where my copy of The World’s Best Fairy Tales came from, but judging by the careful cursive and muddy check marks penciled onto the index pages, I couldn’t have been more than seven. It’s likely I’ve had it even longer. Today, I would never write in a book. Blasphemy! But the fact that it was only on the table of contents (checking off which ones I’d read and which ones I wanted to read again) and that it was done in pencil shows even as a child I didn’t want to wreck the beautiful book.

    There are hundreds of stories in it. Many are so obscure that most people have never heard of them. And the ones people do recognize are not the versions they’re familiar with. I walked the lonely halls of the Beast’s castle with Beauty, exploring the rooms filled with birds, colored paper, musical instruments, and yarn. I wept when the prince didn’t return the love of the Little Mermaid and she turned to sea foam, and I waited, breathless to see what the tiny glow from the Little Match Girl’s flame would reveal.

    (more…)