Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 14-05-2013
The young scouts walked away from the door smiling. Everybody loved Mrs Peppers; she was a kind and thoughtful old lady and her house was adorable – neat as a pin and loaded with antiques. She watched them go, shutting the door carefully, the hologram for both her and the room disappearing. Pepper Potts stood in a place that looked more like NASA Mission Control than a living space, with no antiques in sight. “Seriously? You built a safe house in Toledo, Ohio?” she asked the man in front of the wall display. “What? No one’s found us, have they?” Tony Stark smiled. “Hey, did you get …” “Yes, six boxes,” she sighed. “God help the world if Iron Man can’t get his Tagalongs.”
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 13-05-2013
“Let’s go swimming at the quarry, not the lake,” Morgan said, getting on his bike. “Afraid of the lake monster?” Robbie teased. “No way,” Morgan replied casually while adjusting his backpack. “The lake monster did me a solid drowning my stepdad last summer, so I’ve been feeding him from time to time. It’s just more of a business arrangement, you know? I don’t know if I’d try to play with him.” Morgan pedaled off, leaving Robbie silent and stunned.
A stamp places this in “Interloper, North Carolina”. A note on the back reads: “[BLANK]“.
Tansy’s answer: ”The catapult was positioned to look like any other tree (which gave Lawrence immeasurable delight).” (Post your own answers and read the genius of others on the Tansy Undercrypt Facebook page here.)
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 11-05-2013
John listened with the others, tense, for Adrienne’s arrival at the office every morning – listened closely to what she was humming. Their lives would go well that week if it was anything rock or blues or jazz or country; if, however, she sat down in her office with a Starbuck’s latte and a one-person rendition of “O,Fortuna” from the Carmina Burana, well … “Always know where the closest exit is,” Barbara had told him in a hushed and frightened tone that first day.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 10-05-2013
In her tell-all book, the fairy Merryweather revealed that the prince was actually a coffee merchant from a distant land who stood to make a fortune with Kingdom Cappuccino stands if he could wake Princess Aurora up. “Money was the real incentive of love’s true kiss,” she told Ellen DeGeneres and a hushed TV audience. “I mean, let’s get real,” Merryweather continued, her wings whirring and suspending her like a hummingbird over the chair. “She was a beautiful girl, but she snored like a sailor, drooled like a lapdog, and hadn’t brushed her teeth for months!”
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 09-05-2013
Paul’s dad went off to get the belt, claiming that it was once again time to “Get things right” in the boy’s head. Paul sat very quietly in the living room, concentrating. He had been able to move small things first – coins, paper clips, measuring spoons; he had searched on the library computer about this, learned some focus exercises, and moved quickly on to bending branches, peeling siding off of houses, and tearing mailboxes out of the ground. Paul moved a few inches to his right, closer to the angry stomping coming down the hall, and took a deep breath. In front of him lay the center of the living room bay window, and the yard where his father was going to land.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 08-05-2013
The bean waited, first at the market, then in the boy’s pocket, for a chance to unleash its magic. It was able to seize opportunity later on and amaze the child with its tremendous powers of growth, but the whole Jack/Giant thing was little more than a distraction. Beneath the ground, its roots pushed deep into vast caverns, ancient burial sites, and the realms of Still Older Things trapped in darkness and dreaming. He would wake them. He would wake them all.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 07-05-2013
Dracula addressed his three new wives with great warmth and sincerity. “I have joined you each to me because of your intelligence, humor, talents, and singular, unique beauty – all of which are beyond question.” They smiled at him in the candlelight. “Therefore,” and here his voice took on a sharper edge, “I will tolerate discussion around shape and weight for only the first year of our vast eternity together so that you might overcome this unfortunate societal tendency.” He looked them in the eyes, moving across the table. “After that, if the obsession continues, I will stake you myself.” They gasped while he uncorked a bottle of 1729 Itinerant Poet. “Such conversation is tedious and utterly beneath us, my dears.”
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 06-05-2013
Sometimes, when the constant snow and happy singing became too much to bear, she would poison an elf or two; a special batch of cookies, a pinch of this and that, a little taste test with a cold glass of milk (served with a warm smile). She wasn’t proud of it, but it kept the darkness in check for the rest of the time. As Mrs Claus, she adored her home, her husband, and the lively hum of the workshop year-round … but she was an Addams after all.
A bystander’s note captures this in “Mortality, South Dakota”. Another part of the note reads “[BLANK]“.
Tansy’s answer: ”Saturday night full moon: taking quick pics while Sheila & Co are human.” (Post your own answers and read the genius of others on the Tansy Undercrypt Facebook page here.)