Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 31-07-2014
“I know you took it,” Christine whispered, her eyes narrowing. Mickey grinned evilly. “What are you gonna do about it? Race me?” He looked at his bike. “Are you gonna challenge me to a duel?” He laughed, enjoying the taunt, and thought about keeping the toy horse forever just to tease her. “Are you gonna ..” Mickey’s eyes grew wide as Christine stepped closer to him, her eyes never leaving his face. “What I’m gonna do is Grudge you. I am going to haunt you everywhere and every day and pass the consequences on to everyone who even talks to you. I will be your own, personal Japanese horror flick.” Mickey rolled back on his bike, stammered, then fished the horse out of his backpack. “Geez, here!” he said, holding it out. “Too late,” she whispered, turning away.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 30-07-2014
“When my father died,” Don Raul remembered, “we had a solemn funeral that the entire neighborhood attended. Later that night, they closed the side street we lived on and had a milonga.” “A milonga?” Martino asked. “Yes! A tango party,” the old man continued. “We dressed to the nines and celebrated his life. The white hat he wore to these things was passed from gentleman to gentleman who would each, in turn, ask my grandmother to dance. She would thank them for their kindness and refuse them.” Martino leaned in on the edge of his seat, listening. “Then the eldest son or grandson would don the hat and ask – and she would accept. This was how we passed the torch on in those days … with everyone as family and with joy.” “That’s not how we do it now,” Martino said quietly, thinking about his grandmother alone in her apartment, “but maybe that needs to change.”
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 29-07-2014
Eventually, a girl from a neighboring small town came to visit Edward, bringing him a computer with a metal keyboard. Through her kindness, he found understanding and a pool of friends online, sharing the slings and arrows of life with other creations (such as Hank Hammerhead and Debbie Nailsgun) and dabbling in a bit of long-distance romance with Sally Sharpener. When those who’d known him in the city had gone, he reintroduced himself carefully and got a job at the fabric store (delighting the quilters with his accuracy and fancy cutwork). Hank asked him why he’d give those people a second chance, but Edward didn’t have an easy answer. “Sometimes, forgiveness gets a boost from boredom,” he said quietly.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 28-07-2014
“The company tried on a number of mission statements, values, goals, objectives, and all of the strategies you can think of to push adherence to those,” Paul said to Ravi, showing him to his desk. “In the end, only one concept really worked to build strong teams and trust between departments.” “And what was that?” Ravi asked, feigning interest, already disappointed that his new company was pandering the same old crap. “Fight club,” Paul said softly. Ravi froze, looking at the walls of his cubicle, suddenly seeing them as a blank canvas to build a life on. “I’m in,” he whispered.
Name this researcher and their area of specialty or accomplishment.
Tansy’s answer: “Patrick Buell Clavicle-Mears, hopeless romantic and succubus bait.”
(Post your own answers and read the genius of others on the Tansy Undercrypt Facebook page.)
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 26-07-2014
In the living room, the entire family was piled on the couch watching “Transformers” and eating popcorn. In the kitchen, the toaster, blender, and can opener huddled together, peering out of the doorway, watching it as well. “Aspiring to greatness, boys?” the knife sharpener chuckled. They looked over at it, disgusted. “Decepticon,” they hissed, trying to clank softly but menacingly. The refrigerator stood tall and silent as usual, thinking how cute it all was and resisting the urge to change right there.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 25-07-2014
Marvin stared into his closet, lost. Diana had known what to do with all of it – the clothes, the life, the saving him from himself. “I’m still color blind, Mother,” he said to the emptiness that used to hold his lovely wife. He pulled out a pair of slacks and a shirt and laid them on the bed. Marvin tried to remember the details of his clothes, reaching for anything that might show him he’d made a good pairing (instead of purple and green [like the Joker] or gold and orange [like a sunflower]). Nothing. Frustrated, he stomped off to the bathroom, rethinking last night’s vow to not die an old fart and make some friends here. When he returned, his striped polo had thrown itself out of the closet onto the rug. Marvin knew the shirt was blue as were his only pair of jeans. “Thank you, Sweetheart,” he whispered, not sure if his wife had intervened, but needing very much to believe that she had.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 24-07-2014
She shuffled into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and freshened her glass from the wine box. Sighing heavily, she returned to the couch. She knew that the Justice League bowling party was tonight and that everyone was going – everyone but her. She had waited all week for an invitation in the mail or a message in her empty inbox … nothing. This had happened to everyone in her family: the Gnat, the Mayfly, the Red Ant – they tried so hard to fit in, but never really belonged. She sighed again and changed the channel. “Looks like another quiet night for The Mosquito,” she said sadly, taking a sip.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 23-07-2014
“She really IS that beautiful,” he said while standing at the bar with the others, “but that’s only part of the magic.” They bought him another round and urged him on. “When I found her, she was drunk as a skunk on some cherry cordial from the pantry, dancing with a broom, and singing some cute little songs to the mice. Here she is, in this crappy situation, being kind to everyone – even her awful family – and burping the alphabet. How could I resist?” They cheered and clapped Charming on the back. “The glass slipper bit is way romantic but, for me, what clinched the deal is that Cinder has never played the victim.”
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 22-07-2014
“But, Master, how could one who sat still for 40 years be one of the greatest warriors in the land?” Goh asked, confused. His master smiled. “Zao Li taught himself to travel outside of his body during meditation and sleep, engaging in ferocious battles with those who sought to do harm. Upon waking, his enemies did not have the strength to challenge him in this world and he brought peace to the valley.” Goh looked over at Ping, who had been making his life difficult for almost a year; Ping stared back, his eyes cold. “Thank you, Master,” Goh said evenly. “I would like to go now and meditate deeply on this teaching.”