Meanwhile in Florida

Meanwhile in Florida

Restarting in a moment “That’s nice. Except for the part where I didn’t ask you to restart. I asked you to print my spreadsheet.” Charlie’s left eye squints in disapproval as he watches the six white balls pull themselves around in a spinning circle on the screen. They dance around themselves, mocking his attempts to accomplish anything before the doors open and the inevitable sea of witches and wizards flood the waiting room of the Department of Reversals and Repairs of Palm Springs (DRRPS). Or, as Charlie likes to call it, “Derps”. It’s a sign. Coffee. Charlie grabs his mug...

Blessed Be

Blessed Be

The old man’s classical flamenco guitar echoed off the walls of the ancient passageway, mixing with the sharp stench wafting up from the ground. The smooth cobblestones glistened red in the moonlight snaking into the narrow alley. Small chunks of pineapple and pear filled the crevices between the stones. Fighting back the urge to vomit herself, Allison listened to the scrape of chairs around the corner and pictured the bar patrons moving tables. “How the hell did we get here, Connie?” Connie answered with another round of purging, barely missing Allison’s new purple and green espadrilles purchased just that afternoon...

I Wish Thee A Faerie Nice Day

I Wish Thee A Faerie Nice Day

Ganna glanced down at her pointy purple nails and sighed. Why did this always take so long? She covered a second huff with a sugary smile, the one all wishers expected, full of curiosity and promise. Her eyes widened intentionally. She batted her green and purple eyelashes at the grotesque human quivering in front of her. “Shall I ask again?” she purred, flying closer to his obnoxious face. She fluttered her long, thin wings faster, creating a hypnotic, prismatic effect that might hurry things along. “What wish may I have the honor of granting you?” Their wishes were always the...

Wingman

Wingman

Savas doesn’t give the woman a second glance when she deposits herself and her oversized red handbag on the bar stool to his right. His attention is on his best friend, whose reaction to the story of Kimberleigh breaking up with him is distressingly underwhelming. “This was worse than anything Celia ever did to you,” Savas barks, slamming his whiskey down for emphasis. The bar’s other patrons twitch and subtly turn away from him, and the bartender sends a dark glower his way. Savas meekly raises the glass towards one and all, his eyebrow twitching, and continues speaking to Russell...

Erased

Erased

It started with my mom. Her memory would slip and she would mistake me for Dad, even though he had been gone for years. Or worse, she would forget altogether. One day the nurse at the home gave me a look—a weird combination of frustration and comfort—as I entered my mom’s room. Mom had been forgetting more and more, but was generally happy to see a familiar face, even if only vaguely so. But today was different. Not only did she look upset, she didn’t look herself at all. “Hi Mom! It’s me, your favorite son,” I said with forced...

Imbolg

“Genaine, thank you for doing this for me,” Weylin said. Genaine spat on the ground in front of him. “I’m not doin’ it for you, my lord. I’m doing it for Brigid,” growled the elder woman. “Someone needs to look after this child in the way she would have wanted.” Weylin stood calmly nodding his head in affirmation. Keitha thought she might have even seen a tug at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, of course. My mistake. Praise be to the goddess that you are here to serve.” Keitha thought she detected a slight lack of sincerity in her...

Working Title

It started small, as weird little annoyances. I couldn’t find my keys anywhere. I looked under couch cushions, dared to stick a hand under the couch–and tried not to think about the crumbs and goo my fingers were crawling through. I searched in the laundry hamper and went through all the pockets of my jeans, then every jacket and hoodie I could find strewn about my studio apartment. I mean, the place is, like, minuscule. How many spots were there for keys to hide? Think, Emma! THINK! Where did you toss them last night? I was beginning to believe a...

If Wishes Were War Horses

If Wishes Were War Horses

They say there’s a war horse that lives over in Hideaway, New Mexico, whose hooves throw sparks like hellfire and whose breath could move the moon. They say the horse is made of metal from a fallen star, forged and assembled by some automaton god. They say that horse grants wishes, if only you can gentle it long enough to straddle its shoulders. They say a lot of things. It was only June, and Hideaway was already thirsty. The channels down the sides of Tenmile Mesa sat bone-dry and dusty. A few of old Gracie’s cows died of thirst that...

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