Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 20-05-2013
“Mr Peabody appeared twice after his death – both times in the back seat of someone’s car.” Emery’s tone was lighthearted (even amused), but Anderson shuddered. “How horrible!” he said, trying to imagine a face suddenly appearing in his rear view mirror. “An unintended horror,” Emery replied smiling. “In life, Peabody had been a driving instructor and showed up to give the person at the wheel some helpful pointers. He never intended for them to start screaming and drive off of the road. They lived, of course, but he never risked it again; too much advice can be a dangerous thing.”
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 08-02-2013
Pauline opened her apartment door and confirmed for the aide that she was fine. It was Pinochle Night, she beamed, and everyone was in high spirits. The aide offered a comforting smile, making a mental note to talk to her supervisor about a dementia evaluation (everyone in Pauline’s card group had passed away). Then she heard them. Laughter. Glasses clinking. A chair being pushed back from the table. Pauline opened the door wide enough so that the aide could see Wyatt Banks (died 2010), who gave a little mischievous wave; she gasped, nodded, and fled down the corridor.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 28-01-2013
When the snowstorm started, Grandpa closed all of the curtains and locked the doors at the top (so that the children couldn’t reach). He set out snacks and got the really noisy games down to keep everyone busy – keep them from looking outside. The snow stuck to it (the ectoplasm or whatever it was) and you could see just about everyone who’d passed milling about in the yard or pressing against the windows. The little ones weren’t ready for that. “Heck,” he whispered to himself, “I’M not ready for that!” Grandpa didn’t want to see Grandma again until he’d had a proper haircut.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 17-01-2013
Kathleen came into the kitchen while her grandmother was baking and looked down at the floor. “Gran,” she said softly, “I need to ask you a question.” Granny nodded, smiling. “You always say you hate having your picture taken and duck out at the last minute, but you don’t; you’re right there when the flash goes off, but the camera never sees you.” Granny stiffened, looking cautiously at the girl. “You say that you don’t like the car and that’s why you never go on car rides. I think … I think that’s because you can’t.” Kathleen took a big breath. “Gran, how long have you been gone?” The old woman put two fresh chocolate chip cookies on a plate and set them on the table. “Google?” she asked. “American Horror Story, Season One,” Kathleen replied. Granny sighed. “Almost 17 years. Sit down and eat your cookies – and don’t tell your father.”
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 24-11-2012
They found little Connie standing to the side of the road, a few steps down from the flare, wearing a boy’s peacoat; she had been missing in near blizzard conditions for almost 12 hours. As the paramedics whisked her away, Sheriff Jack Daly stared out into the blowing snow. A car had gone off of Fisher’s Bridge into the river almost ten years ago, drowning a man, a woman, and their 12-year-old son; some crazy things had happened out here ever since. Jack remembered that the boy had been found in the back seat and he’d been wearing a wool peacoat.“Hey,” Jack called out into the night, “I just want to say thank you on behalf of Connie’s parents. I don’t know what happens now; I hate to leave you out here. Maybe … you wanna go into the light or something?” Silence. “Well, thanks again.” He felt kind of stupid until the flare went out; looking down, there was no indentation in the snow, no burns marks, nothing to say there had ever been a flare. The little hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He tipped his hat towards the woods, got in his car, and drove away.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 05-11-2012
He detested the way Oscar left his beer cans and bottles everywhere; the entire place reeked of beer and the floor had become a complex system of interlocking puddles. “I was going to do a bit of light reading and then rattle some chains in the attic today, but I suppose I’ll just do this instead!” The ghost of Felix Unger drifted angrily from the kitchen to the living room carrying a plastic bag, while the ghost of Oscar Madison hid quietly in the garage.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 01-11-2012
Elena gasped as Martina handed a Barbie doll to the thin air next to her and it hung, suspended. As she stared, open-mouthed, the doll drifted gently to the floor as if someone had put it down. She looked at Martina, trying desperately to squeak out some words. “I know,” Martina said casually. “It’s a little strange at first. Please try to remember that – for some of us – every day is a day of the dead.”
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 26-10-2012
Andrea stuck her hands in her pockets and walked on. “Really,” she said, snapping her gum, “most horror movies are lame – and ghost stories are the lamest of all!” She looked over at Becca, who was wearing an odd expression. “The one thing that gets me,” Andrea continued, “is that creepy, lightning-fast ghost walk. I mean, it’s out on the lawn so you’re safe, then you blink and it’s right up in your grill!” Becca nodded, making a mental note of ‘No Fast Ghost Walk’. Everything had to wait until the slumber party on Saturday night.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 10-10-2012
Pe Lu had been the fourth child and the third daughter. Plain, sturdy, and without prospects for a good marriage, she was expected to serve her aging parents and oldest brother until their deaths. She was gentle and kind, which attracted lonely spirits and gave her interesting companions with whom to spend the long, hard days. She told no one. After many years, she retired to live quietly in an apartment on the edge of the city near a park with the ghost of a farmer named Ku. He was plain, sturdy, had worked very hard to lead a good life, and found her beautiful.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 22-09-2012
Only one Nightsiders picnic was ever held; it was a total failure. The vampires brought beverages, which they promptly drank, then hung in the trees napping all afternoon. The werewolves provided meat for grilling, refused to cook it, ate it all, then sat around licking themselves. You could never tell if the ghost families were there or not, and they never brought anything to share. If the mummies even bothered to show up, you could count on the conversation going nowhere. The capper was what would happen when a human family would walk by the cemetery grounds. Total chaos.