Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 31-05-2012
“I’ll send a yellow balloon; that’s how you’ll know,” she’d said. That was a million years ago, before all good dreams turned to dust and memory. Now, Hector was just another old man shuffling by, passing long days short on purpose. A truck with a yellow balloon painted on its side drove slowly by him down the street. He gasped. “Finally,” he whispered with a joy and an urgency that almost scared him. “I don’t have the words for how I’ve missed you.”
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 30-05-2012
Stacey biked over to Bart’s house and asked him point blank: “Why is Ronald McDonald hiding in a storm drain at the intersection of 5th and Elm?” Bart sighed and rolled his eyes. “Two for one hamburger promotion,” he said. “It got that Pennywise clown a lot of attention in Derry.” “No one’s THAT hungry,” Stacey whispered.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 29-05-2012
Lying on the mountain, covered in snow and charred pieces of Balrog, Gandalf gathered his thoughts as he slowly turned White. Maybe, if he made it through this, he’d answer Dumbledore’s letter about the ‘Defense Against the Dark Arts’ position. He had to admit that a desk job sounded terrific at the moment.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 28-05-2012
“I don’t know why you read that junk,” she sneered, hitting the “k” hard enough to spit. I put the science fiction down and looked at her. I wanted to say “Well, Kim, I read this junk because I want to be one of those people who could wake up tomorrow, find that aliens had landed, and have a framework for ongoing rational thought.” Instead, I just shrugged and said “Meh”. You really have to pick your battles and, let’s face it, not everybody is going to fit in my underground shelter.
Filed Under (Writing (Other)) by Tansy on 27-05-2012
I cannot deny that, if I were a goat, I’d be up in everybody’s business exactly like THIS. Too perfect, really.
Filed Under (Reaper Ratings) by Tansy on 27-05-2012
If you imbibe and like a big red wine, hold on to your socks; if you’re shopping for a gift bottle and want to give something intelligent and interesting, consider sending a pair of extra socks to the lucky recipient! At less than $20 per bottle, Small Gully’s ‘Mr. Black’s Concoction’ is a Hulk smash of Australian Shiraz and French Viognier. Massive fruit delivered by bulldozer finishes clean and elegant – such a rare trick of balance you may decide not to share it at all. When you search for it, don’t forget high-end grocery; it has a wide distribution. I give Mr. Black’s Concoction a Reaper Rating of 4 (Thrill Kill); you may not know what hit you, and you certainly won’t care.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 26-05-2012
Helen stared at the whiskey bottle. “Breakfast, anyone?” Her eyes filled with tears, hands shaking as they reached for the cap. Outside, a crash; Lila French (all of 5) had fallen from her 2-wheel bike again. She stood it up, crying, and walked a little ways repeating “I’m brave. I’m smart. I can do it. I can DO IT.” She took a deep breath, climbed on, and wobbled off. Helen stood very, very still at the screen. “I’m brave. I’m smart …” she began, grabbing her coat – leaving the house and breakfast behind.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 25-05-2012
Arnie loved to swim and, looking on the bright side, he never had to leave the pool if he didn’t want to now. He looked up and saw Sara Doeringsfeld staring down into the water, terrified. He waved at her and she screamed and cried and refused to go in. She kept pointing to the deep end, talking about the boy who’d gotten caught in the filter and drowned. ‘Girls are stupid,’ Arnie thought to himself, going into another lap.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 24-05-2012
Deadly, the eighth dwarf, watched the young woman inside – dancing and singing with the other seven against the glow of the hearth. She was lovely and they were jovial; he did not begrudge them their high spirits. His dark hooded cloak kept him warm against the rain and the scythe he held before him cleared his way into the deep forest where he lived. Deadly made his way silently home; he was content he’d see them all again in due time.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 23-05-2012
After many years had passed, Barry found himself staring up at a spotlight feeling oddly disoriented. “Hadn’t I?” he stammered. “At the hospital?” Andy slipped an arm around his shoulders; the twins flanked him on the other side. “Wha?” he gasped, reaching out to touch them in disbelief. Robin smiled. “Welcome; now get to work. We’ve waited a long time for this reunion tour!” The curtains fully parted and the crowd went insane, the intro for “Stayin’ Alive” booming overhead.