The Confabulator Cafe

Tag: Unlikable Midnight

  • Unlickable

    “Ma’am?” She turned around to face a sheepishly grinning man. “I’m afraid you have—ah…” He cleared his throat delicately while tugging on his earlobe. “There’s something attached to your… skirt.”

    Warmth rushed to her cheeks as she twisted about, trying to spot the object in question. Something white flashed at the corner of the eye, sticking out from under her butt. She grabbed for it, coming into contact with a sticky, paper stick. She tugged on it, feeling the skirt shift away from her rear, but a few tugs could not pry it free.

    She drew in a breath, counting to three before returning the man’s smile. “Thank you for pointing it out, that could have been embarrassing.” Her daughter must have left something on one of the chairs. Something she had licked, and by the feel of it licked quite thoroughly. This was why she kept a spare change of clothes in her office, clothes she never took home. Her assistant took them to the dry cleaner once a week and returned them straight to the office. She had enough suit separates to last her an entire week. (more…)

  • Burning Bones

    Steven’s finger hovered over the “Accept” button, the soft green light of the ATM lighting his face. He hesitated and looked at his watch, as if the time wasn’t displayed prominently on every wall and every television. 6:52. He checked the nearest wall. Yep, it still had the right time. He looked behind him, stalling. If someone was standing behind him, waiting to use the ATM, then he would have to make a decision right there. He could hit cancel, take his empty wallet and mostly empty bank account home, and even get there in time to tuck his kid into bed. But there was no one behind him, no one waiting.

    His finger pressed the button. “Thank You For Allowing Us To Serve You,” the machine flashed, as his money started spitting out. Twenty dollar bill after twenty dollar bill, three hundred and forty dollars total. “Would You Like A Recipt?” The machine asked him in glowing green print. He stabbed at the “No” button. He didn’t need a piece of paper to remind him of the two dollars and fifty seven cents that were in his bank account. Besides, first thing tomorrow morning, it would all be back before anyone knew it was gone. All of it, and all the rest, and more. A big one was coming. He knew it. Not just a big one, but The Big One. His bones were burning, as his dad used to say whenever he felt a hot streak coming on. His bones were burning, and he was ready to walk out of this dingy place a winner.

    (more…)