The Confabulator Cafe

Tag: freestyle

  • 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…)

  • The Woman who Slipped Below

    “Help!” they cried, running toward my tower chair, stumbling over little sand dunes on their way. An older man and woman, and a middle aged man.

    “She’s drowning!”

    I stand and scan the lake where they are pointing. The surface is glassy. Unperturbed. I grab my red rescue tube and slide down the ladder. I run toward the three.

    “Where?” I shout.

    “Just there!” they say, they all point to the same place in the lake.

    “I don’t see anyone!”

    “She’s flailing, man!” Says the older woman in the tankini. I scan the lake and the beach again. The half-dozen other beach goers are looking at me.

    “Go!” she says. (more…)

  • The Last Christmas Tree

    Needle grew up like most trees. He started as a seed from a pine cone. He was raised in a greenhouse until he was big enough to survive outdoors, where he was planted in the ground.

    As Needle grew, he heard rustling amongst the other trees, who had been planted in neat rows alongside him, that they lived on what was called a Christmas Tree Farm. Silver, Needle’s sister at the end of the row, tried to point to a sign one windy day, where she swore there was neat lettering that said so.

    Needle didn’t know what a tree farm was, but he was happy. He got plenty of water, and humans came by and made sure to keep all of them pruned and healthy.

    Trees have no concept of time. Time is a human construct. All Needle knew was that he lived for a time in what humans might call contentedness.

    But as the weather turned from hot to cool, there was the horrifying sound of machinery and the wailing of trees in the distance. Rumor flew on the wind, and all the trees near Needle held their collective breath.

    But the danger seemed to pass, and life returned to normal. Snow, rain, pollination, and heat. Needle continued to be content, except for every now and then when the sound of horror came around again.

    The rest of the time, the trees didn’t think about it.

    Until the day they had no choice. (more…)

  • Frozen Reflection

    The windowpane was cold against her nose. Her breaths puffed against the glass and the condensation caught and froze. Outside the snow piled deeper and deeper with each passing moment. She drew a finger through the newly formed frost. Please. She mouthed the word as she spelled it out.

    She pressed her forehead to the pane and her hands on either side of the word. For a moment all she felt was the chill of the glass and then slowly she felt the soft touch of icy fingers brushing tentatively against hers. She pushed through the glass and clasped hands with her reflection.

    And then her reflection was upon her. A tangle of frozen limbs as they toppled over.

    “You’re so cold.” (more…)

  • Betwixt Hearts

    The woman may have come into Wendy’s tent trying to look common, but she had wealth written all over her. Even dressed down in dark trousers and a blouse, Wendy could see that about her. Her clothes fit too well. Her hair was too clean.

    “Do I have something you need?” Wendy asked as the woman sat at the opposite end of the rug cover the dirt inside the tent.

    “I reckon you do.”

    “And you are?”

    “Elizabeth Wagner.”

    Ah, Wendy had heard the name Wagner around the town, in the weeks she’d been doing her work on the outskirts and nearby farms. It seemed that Daddy Wagner owned about half the town, and wasn’t all too well loved. She hadn’t heard anything about a family, but rich men usually had a few daughters to barter.

    “Well, Miss Wagner, what brings you to me under the cover of night?” (more…)