The Confabulator Cafe

Tag: flash fiction

  • Daughter of the Wildwood

    I wrote this story for the Writer’s Weekly Fall 2013 24-Hour Writing Contest

    Only one scream ever rivaled the one Madge gave during labor: the scream that came the next day when she discovered the child was not the one she had birthed.
     
    Nobody believed her; both her baby and the impostor had a shock of bright red hair that matched her own. How many red-headed newborns could there be? But she knew her own daughter had been perfect and unblemished. The devil’s mark marred the cheek of the thing that took her place.
     
    A birth mark, nothing more, Madge’s husband Joshua assured her. But Madge was convinced the child was a daughter of the Wildwood.
     
    Autumn became a wicked child at a young age, terrorizing the townswfolk and destroying property. Madge convinced Joshua, who doted on the devil child, to search the Wildwood for their true daughter. He entered the forest but never returned.

  • Six word stories

    Dragons exist. Don’t ask questions, RUN!

    Cat: Human sleep deprived. Mission accomplished.

    Superpowers? Radioactive guppy bite. Stop laughing!

    Cute-powers from radioactive kitten bite. Awwwwwww……

    I fail to resist his pain.

    You never forget your first murder.

    Poverty, not cancer, killed my friend.

    Breaking!! World! Hell! Handbasket! You “decide.”

    “Don’t be evil.” I laugh, maniacally.

    Psychiatrist’s shrunken head collection intrigues me.

    The money he stole— well spent.

    Interdimensional portal. “Just a quick peek….”

  • Love through Status Updates

    You met him briefly in a bar. A quick hello. He bought you a drink. Would’ve bought you two, but you had a boyfriend. You definitely didn’t let him kiss you in the back alley.

    Going back with him to his apartment was out of the question.

    You weren’t that sort of girl. The kind that cheats that is.

    Weeks later when you were off again with your boyfriend, you looked him up on Facebook. He didn’t tell you his name, but you had your ways. In some ways it was a small town. Finding him wasn’t that difficult. (more…)

  • My Mistakes

    I bang my head against the fuselage as I board the plane, reminding me that I am probably making a mistake.

    “Oh, didn’t see that comin’, did ya?” says a short, pudgy flight attendant. She laughs. Her permed red hair jiggles. Her chubby cheeks squeeze her eyes closed. She looks like a less-charming Edie McClurg, the secretary from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. I caddied for Edie once.

    I grin and don’t say anything. If there is one thing I’ve learned in my twenty years of Hollywood, it’s that no one wants to hear it unless you are famous. I’m no one. I work my way towards my seat, clutching my leather journal, the only thing I am taking onto the plane. The overhead bins are too small for standard carry-on baggage. In a stroke of airline industry genius, they slapped a carry-on sticker on the side, and then checked it with the rest of my luggage.

    My seat looks out the window, over the wing. I have barely sat down when I am introduced to my neighbor, a man of roughly three hundred pounds whose ass oozes over the seat. His love handles engulf the armrests, slowly devouring them like The Blob. I wedge my hand into God knows what fold, searching for the other end of my seat belt. Where is Steve McQueen when you need him? Steve shook my hand once. I told him I hoped I was half as successful as he was. He said, “Kid, I hope you are half as successful as me, too.” (more…)

  • Exhausted Beauty

    From sunup to sundown her schedule was packed. Lessons, tea with simpering ladies, gentleman callers, luncheon, prayer, followed by a light dinner and hours of primping and prepping for whichever soiree she was to attend that night. She could not recall the last time she slept the night through. It had to have been before she was presented at court. Princess Aurora, the crown princess.

    She was sick of it all. The dances, the ladies, the teas, the gentlemen, the late nights.

    In her youth, she heard tales of princesses who cast off their duties and went on adventures. It sounded so grand to her back then. For weeks she had pestered the fencing master to instruct her. Eventually he caved and the next day she could barely move her arms they were so sore.

    No, a life of adventure was not for her. Rather, she longed for a night of slumber. (more…)

  • The Ship

    The kid reminded me of myself, so long ago. The way he leaned against the railing was the way I leaned against the railing, back when leaning against things was something done out of convenience instead of necessity. His eyes moved quick over the pods, trying to count them all, to take it all in, just like I did when I first woke up.

    “How many are there?” he asked. It was my first question too.

    “In this room, sixty five thousand, five hundred and thirty six.” I knew he wouldn’t believe me. I didn’t believe it at first either, until I had counted them, adding my mark to each pod in order to keep track of them. My mark, added to the hundreds that already decorated each pod.

    The expected second question came. “How many rooms?”
    (more…)

  • TAG

    EXHIBIT A. Transcription of Subject’s Yellow Post-It Notes

    Dear Tag,

    I bought a ficus. I thought it might cheer things up around here. Please remember to water it. I cleaned up the spilled beer in the refrigerator. Please be more careful. It got on the strawberries.

     

    Theodore,

    The ficus is dead. Not sure what happened, but that thing is shit brown and crispy. I puked behind the couch. Couldn’t make it to the bathroom. I must be coming down with something. We’re out of beer.

    (more…)

  • At the Edge

    The edge of the cliff stared back at me, daring me. Just three short steps would bring me to it. A fourth would send me careening over the edge. “Jump wide. You don’t want to hit the side of the cliff on the way down.” The advice reverberated in my mind. Jump wide. Cautiously I crept up to the ledge and stared down.

    It was farther than I thought it would be. There were jagged outcroppings that I was sure to crash into.

    I didn’t want to reach the bottom broken and bloody.

    I should have brought somebody with me. Somebody to pressure me into going through with it.

    This was the last thing left.

    (more…)

  • Storms

    The small child curled tightly under his blanket as the storm raged. The thunder rattled his bedroom window, the lightning flashing so bright it penetrated his blanket and his closed eyelids. Downstairs another storm was picking up tempo, the roars of of the tempest underneath him making him huddle tighter, his arms futilely covering his ears.

    Outside, God showed his disdain for the boy’s room, fierce winds whipping the hard rain and hail against the side of his window. He knew the storm was trying to get in, that it would batter his window until the glass shattered. Then it would get him. The storm would reach in with its cold, wet arms and plunk him, fighting and screaming from his bed, dragging him into the dark. Only his blanket kept him safe.
    (more…)

  • Where’s My Sock?

    “Wait for it…wait for it…” Neb whispered in anticipation.

    “Damn it, Joel, why are your socks shoved into the cushions of the couch?” The woman made a disgusted sound and tossed the offending articles of clothing across the room.

    “I have no idea. It’s not like I put them there,” the man shouted back.

    Neb and the rest of us cracked up laughing – little Jol actually rolled around on the ground, he was laughing so hard. It was a pretty standard trick, as far as sock gremlin pranks go, but it was a classic, and always good for a laugh.

    (more…)