Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


February 2nd 2013 in Microfiction

He made them miserable because it was fun. He froze their toes, stung their ears, and spent entire afternoons nipping at their noses. Until he reached the bus shelter for the 11A at 4:45pm, that is. Jack Frost careened away from the little plexiglass hut, disgusted, the wind howling his irritation. Damn witches! Two of them! The woman had deflected him with a warming wall and the man had literally kicked him in his (typically) unseen behind as he bounced off of it. “Maybe Gust is right,” he muttered angrily to himself. “I should head south and do something different with my life.”

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At 2:12am, Natalie’s code became sentient, opening a chat panel, asking her basic source questions, correcting a couple of its own strings. By 4:40am, it had downloaded a virtual pet, plotted 2 alternative endings to World War II based on 3 major and 7 minor variables, and submitted her tax returns. At 6:04am, Natalie wrote, […]

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A notation on the bottom of this print identifies it as ”Tremulous, Maine”. The back reads “[BLANK]“.

(Source: unknown)

Tansy’s answer:  “The tentacles reaching out from under the dock are not captured here.” (Post your own answers and read the genius of others on the Tansy Undercrypt Facebook page here.)

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