The Confabulator Cafe

Tag: confabulation

  • My Half Hour Child

    There it was again, the ghostly tug at my skirt. Every day at precisely half past five, it was there. I could set my watch by it—and I had before after a power outage.

    “There’s a glass of milk on the counter along with a PBJ and a banana.”

    The pressure relieved on my skirt and a few minutes later I heard the heavy scrape of the chair and the clatter of dishes. The sandwich raised and lowered without any bites disappearing. The milk sloshed over the edge of the glass, spilling onto the chair and dripping down to the floor each time my ghostly child tipped it back for a drink. (more…)

  • The Sleeping Strategy

    “Well, the sign confirms it,” Bolero said, walking back over to where Nerek was standing. “It’s the old puzzle where one door is certain death, and one door is the treasure. One guard only lies, and one guard only tells the truth. You only get one question.”

    Nerek let out a deep sigh. When he’d accepted the quest to save the fair maiden from eternal slumber, he hadn’t expected it to be so complicated. Find the highest tower, kiss her, and go home. No one mentioned how ruddy difficult it would be to find the place, however. And instead of the plant barrier he’d been promised, he’d been forced to smash open several locked doors like a common thug, slay a fierce dragon without proper equipment… and now this. “Ugh. You’re a bard. Do you remember how this one goes?”

    “You hired me to record your adventures for posterity,” Bolero said, shaking his head. “I can’t get involved. Besides, I don’t remember quite how it goes. Something about asking one what the other would say?”

    “Yeah, that’s all I remember, too,” Nerek admitted, placing his hand on his chin. The two guards stared intently at him, making him feel ill at ease. “You know, it was bad enough that a full-sized adult dragon was able to live here for countless years… how in the heck are these two still alive? What do they eat? When do they sleep?”

    Bolero shrugged. “It’s magic.”

    (more…)

  • No Regrets

    The machine let out a mellow chirp- a light-hearted sound that betrayed the gravity of the situation.  Officer Julius W. Young raised a frail, quivering hand over the large transparent button, the light inside now glowing a soft green to let the user know that the chamber was primed and ready.

    It was such a simple sight, yet it still brought tears to his eyes.  To think of how much time and effort he had devoted to this moment!  It had taken him seventeen years simply to be promoted into the Chronoguard, and another five before upper management would let him go solo.  They had to be convinced that he didn’t have any ulterior motives for wanting to police time and space.

    (more…)

  • The Night of Many Names

    I’m not going to tell you a lot of things. The things I need to tell you, I will, but the rest you will have to trust in or disbelieve the entire thing. I don’t really care.

    Which is the first lie.

    I do care. I’m trying to tell you something that’s important. If I fail to convince you of the meat of this story, then I will have to try again. That will be dangerous. But someone needs to know.

    And that is the second truth I’ve revealed to you.

    Proceed with caution but proceed. It’s important.

    This is about a single night in the calendar that you’ve never heard of but which has as many names as cultures that are aware of it. It’s the Night of Many Names, the night when bad things happen to good people because they are in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s unfortunate, but necessary. The herd must be culled. (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…)

  • Timber

    http://www.thetortoisetable.org.uk/common/files/catalogue/55/large/falseacacia%20_lr_nov092.jpgI held still.

    The forest all around me soughed with the gentle breeze and I closed my eyes and listened to the symphony of oaks and maples and larch and locust and poplar. Each leaf gave an individual sound, the wind breaking through the different shapes and sizes and positions. I understood the complexities of playing a clarinet or bassoon suddenly even though I’d never picked up a musical instrument in my life.

    Tools I understand. I’m a Builder. That’s why I was in the forest.

    *

    “You have to do this for me,” my brother said. He lay in a hospital bed dying of colon cancer. He was too young for this and younger than me. Life isn’t fair. “You have to.” His voice was not even a fourth what it had been when he was strong. Now it was reedy, full of too much air and almost hollow.

    He held on to my hand with a strength he’d always had but never showed.

    “I will, Ollie. I promise.” I hated this. I was crying and I didn’t want my little brother to see me crying. Our sister would have torn me up for showing emotion like that. Susan was a bitch but I loved her and Ollie more than almost anything. My own family were the only ones above them. I sniffed and stopped trying to hold back the tears.

    “I can’t go until you do, Jamie.” Ollie always had a penchant for gravitas and that’s what made him good at what he did. He could write copy like no one else and he had that shelf of awards to prove it.

    “I’ll go out there first thing in the morning,” I said. I sniffed again.

    Ollie nodded and let go of my hand. The drugs finally took him and let him rest.

    *

    Out in the hall I stopped to hug Ollie’s wife. We both cried and held tight to each other. In another world, I might have won her affection if I hadn’t met Marta around the same time. Charlene chose Ollie, picked him from all her suitors and made sure he knew just how much she loved him. Being a former Miss Texas USA, she attracted all sorts of men – and women – just by being in a room.

    “What does he want you to do?” She hadn’t put on any makeup and her face was blotchy from crying.

    “A small thing,” I said. I looked at the floor. “Tomorrow morning.”

    “Oh god.” Charlene wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Jesus.”

    I took a step back. “He’s sleeping now.”

    “You haven’t told me.”

    “What?” I shuffled to my left half a step.

    The glare she shot me withered away any resolve I might have had. Still, she didn’t need to know everything. I sighed.

    “There’s a tree out on our parents’ property. He wants me to use it in the house.”

    Her face melted from stern reproach to confusion. “I don’t understand.”

    “You don’t really have to, Char,” I said. “This is what he wants me to do for him.” (more…)

  • Going to See the Godmother

    I needed to see the Godmother. The Godmother would fix everything. She would make it all stop hurting. She would make him love me.

    The Godmother grants wishes to those with worthy causes. And what could be a more worthy cause than a broken heart?

    I’d heard about her through one of my friends whose cousin’s boyfriend’s sister had gone to see her. I didn’t know what the cost would be. I didn’t particularly care. All I knew was that I wanted results. I needed results. Desperately. And the Godmother promised guaranteed results. (more…)

  • Life and Limb

    My brother Tommy had always been twitchy. He was born wound tight, and growing up in our house hadn’t done the kid any favors.

    But when Tommy stumbled into Momma’s kitchen that day, pale faced and clutching the crumbled paper bag under one arm, the look in his eyes told me something was seriously wrong this time.

    Tommy hesitated in the doorway when he saw me. His eyes darted from me to Momma, but the old woman wasn’t going to be any help. I’d been sitting in her kitchen for going on half an hour now, and she’d only said a handful of words to me. Even now she kept her back to us, washing dishes in the sink, the scalding water turning her arms a bright, angry red.

    “Hey, bro,” Tommy finally said. His voice had a slight tremble in it, like he was fighting to keep it under control.

    “You coming in or not?” I asked.

    Tommy looked toward Momma again, but she was still deep in her own world of crazy. With a look of resignation, he closed the door and joined me at the table.

    (more…)

  • Sensitive

    “This is beyond unorthodox.”

    The seller’s agent shook his head but didn’t unlock the front door of the house.

    “Gerry, I know,” the buyer’s agent said. Her blond hair blew across her face and she brushed it away. “I’ve never had anyone do this. I hope it’s not a trend.”

    “You know what it is? It’s that damn book by what’s-his-name… Anson.”

    The woman nodded. “Probably. You know they’re making a movie out of it?”

    He chuckled. It was a hopeless sound. Gerry looked at his watch and tapped its face. He’d made plenty of money selling real estate and even though it wasn’t a Rolex yet, it would be someday.

    “Maybe we should go see it together,” Jerry said.

    “What?”

    “That movie.”

    She paused. “Oh, I don’t know.”

    “I know you like me Jeri, and you know I like you.” He smiled. It was the smile that always closed the deal and he knew it. They were about the same age and had known each other for years.

    “Well…”

    “Think about it,” Gerry said. He pointed with his chin. “Here they come.”

    The little Ford, bright and shiny, well-kept, pulled into the drive. Both Gerry and Jeri had parked on the street. Jeri waited for them to get out of the car before approaching them.

    Gerry watched her interact with them and admired her skill in the situation. She’d probably spent less than four or five hours total with these people and she seemed as intimate as an old friend. She hugged the woman and put her hand on the man’s shoulder. They were maybe ten years younger than both Gerry and Jeri, and this was going to be their first home together.

    “Hello, again,” Gerry said, extending his hand when Jeri escorted the couple to the front door. “Good to see you Phil, Tara.” He shook hands with them both. “Are we waiting on —?”

    “Mrs. Vecsey,” Phil said. He was taller than Gerry, more muscular. “She chose to drive herself. Said she wanted to get a sense of the neighborhood.”

    “Well,” Gerry said, taking out the key to the house. “Let’s go inside, then, and wait for her. She knows the address?”

    Tara nodded. She was pretty, dark-skinned. Gerry decided she must be at least half-Japanese. Her enormous brown eyes lit up as he held the door for her.

    (more…)

  • Confessions for the New Year

    The end of the year is almost upon us and typically this time of the year is reserved for reflecting back on our accomplishments from the past year and planning for what the new year will bring us. It’s a time for making resolutions to uphold for the year to come. Or at least, ones we will try to uphold. Which means I have a confession to make.

    We were asked to write about which assignment was our favorite and if anyone’s response stood out the most. When I think back on it, I realized that I’ve done a very poor job at keeping up with reading the blog. I could make excuses a mile long and a few of them might even be legitimate, but the fact of the matter is, I haven’t made the time for it. Which means there really haven’t been any responses that have stood out to me. So next year I’m going to try to do better.

    Scratch that. I’m going to make that goal starting right now. There are still days left of this year and if I put off until tomorrow what I really should have started today… well. I’m a procrastinator and tomorrow is always right around the corner. Before I know it, tomorrow will be the start of 2014 and I still won’t have read anything. And it’s not that I don’t read any of the posts, it’s that I read them so infrequently and with so little consistency that I really can’t form an opinion about one response that stood out to me more than the others. (more…)