Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


August 12th 2017 in Microfiction

“It’s just … really hard to fit in,” he said, looking down at his lap. “Sometimes, being an outsider gives you a broader perspective on the world,” the guidance counselor said gently. “It’s not a bad thing.” “But I don’t … have any friends,” he said, pained. “You have yourself, and coming to terms with yourself is something all of the others will have to do later (when they’re done running in packs and being silly),” she responded. He took that in, sitting very still and thinking. “I know that this is a tough time for you, but I want you to remember that you’re a magical creature and the world doesn’t call magic into being without having a need for it,” she offered (with so much certainty and calm that he could not argue with it). “Thanks,” he said, standing up to go. She smiled at him. “No, really, thanks, Ms. Lovegood,” he said again, shyly meeting her gaze with a smile of his own.

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He stared at the new recruits, his eyes blazing; they shuddered involuntarily, refused to meet his gaze. He ranted for several moments in long dead languages, then turned into a horrible creature with expansive leathery wings and flung himself mercilessly against the stone walls of the great hall. They gasped and clung to each other, […]

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Salem has gone mad.
John has been accused and I am convicted without arrest or trial as his wife (as all women are assumed to be directly under the influence of Satan). We sit here, strangely at ease, wondering if they intend to execute us separately or together (burning or drowning for me, crushing for […]

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