Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 19-09-2014
Harlan let himself into the house through the back, careful not to disturb the yellow tape. He felt no affection for the place itself, nor did he feel a sense of loss over the fate of his brother and the legacy now tied to the family name forever (he’d changed his name ages ago). “Ah, here we are,” Harlan whispered, opening one of the bedroom closets. He looked out of the window at the now dark and deserted Bates Motel without sentiment. Truthfully, the only thing he missed was his mother and, now that he’d collected the rest of her dresses, she could always be with him.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 18-09-2014
Falsifer wanted to tell lies; he really did. Oh, how he longed to not accept the blame when he’d done something wrong (like the other demons), or fabricate a story where he received all of the credit (also like the others). In the end, however, Falsifer just didn’t like worrying that he’d be found out or being unable to sleep in his nest of spikes near the Chasm of Doom, his stomach in knots over some random act of subterfuge. His reflection was interrupted by Spitefork asking if his new tail wrap made him look fat. “I … I …,” Falsifer started, intending to mislead, “… I … really like the other one, the blue one, better on you.” He sighed miserably afterwards, defeated.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 17-09-2014
The manatee princess had gone to the sea witch for legs some time ago, although merfolk were so obsessed with celebrities as a rule that no one noticed. She traded half of her teeth to leave the ocean, not to score a hot relationship, but to become a marine biologist, correct some blatant human misunderstandings, and forge a new path for global policy and initiatives involving clean water and conservation. Doctor Anna M. Tee lived quietly and purposefully, surrounded by like minds and devoted friends, eating soft food and saving the world.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 16-09-2014
“History can bestow a romantic quality on the undeserving, of course,” Mr Caportini said to the tour group, leading them into the portrait gallery. “Our Miss Borden being an excellent example.” He paused before the famous face. “While, certainly, her most violent crimes deserve their notoriety,” Caportini continued, adding, “Oh, and don’t trouble yourself with guilt versus innocence. Lizzie was acquitted solely because the courts at the time did not believe women clever enough to plan or strong enough to commit ghastly murders.” His eyes twinkled as someone gasped. “So unfair, no? To my original point, yes, it IS unfair! Lizzie Borden does not deserve to be legendary while the cannibalistic Crockers and their dear Betty – an accomplished serial poisoner – are remembered drolly for cakes and pies.” Caportini grinned slyly as he saw a young woman touch Betty’s portrait with newfound affection and understanding.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 15-09-2014
When the moon was full, Evie turned into more of a werecoyote than a wolf. Thin, small, and straggly, she was not accepted into hunting packs (that considered her a liability) and had zero chance of finding a mate. Falling asleep under a dumpster after digging for old cheeseburgers, Evie was trapped by an animal rescue, then bathed, fed, and cuddled. “We have no choice but to change at the command of the moon, but can always decide not to turn back,” Fenrik had said to her before the bite. “Eventually, we forget our human ways.” Evie reflected on this, drifting in and out of sleep in her cage surrounded by blankets and toys. “My life was a non-stop crap circus anyway,” her human brain said in words and pictures. “No big shakes if you resign.” And so she did, with zero notice.
Please complete this haiku according to your druthers.
“Alone in the night; darkness wins …”
(Illustration by Edward Gorey)
Tansy’s answer: “Crackers and Cheez Whiz.”
(Post your own answers and read the genius of others on the Tansy Undercrypt Facebook page.)
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 13-09-2014
“It was a night of strange dreams,” Thor began, joining the others for breakfast, “where I, in an opulent and maze-like city, was besieged on all sides by unseen foes.” “I was an elf ranger fighting off orcs – straight outta Lord of the Rings,” Hawkeye shared. “I went to sleep redesigning the artificial heart,” Stark added, “and then it took on a mind of its own and replicated other parts to make a Frankenstein.” “I received a telegram informing me that all of the people I’d assassinated were coming back to life and I needed to fly home to Russia,” Black Widow said. “So, basically, we all dreamt about our actual lives?” Captain America asked, laughing. “I ordered a sandwich at Subway and they put eyeballs on it instead of turkey,” Bruce Banner interjected softly. They all turned to stare at him and he shrugged. “No way my dreams can be weirder than my reality.”
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 12-09-2014
“That stuff about seeking and finding,” Patrick began, handing the angel a segment from the orange in his school lunchbox. The angel responded softly, “What about it?” “Well, it’s broken, for one thing,” Patrick said. “I seek for plenty of things and never find them.” “Maybe seeking is the whole point?” the angel offered. “Seek and you’ll just keep seeking forever, so I hope you like seeking?” Patrick asked, looking at the angel slyly. “I’m in third grade and even I can see that’s totally lame.” The angel snacked and pondered, wondering if he’d get in trouble for saying the boy had a point.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 11-09-2014
Russell noticed that the rook was flying level with the car – just outside of the driver’s window, like a police escort. It was joined by another on the passenger side, then another at the rear of the car. “Wow,” he said to himself. “That’s weird.” Rooks gathered above, forming a canopy over the vehicle, their cries almost deafening. Coming into town, someone at the bus stop stood up and shrieked, “A new king will be chosen!” Russell tried not to stare. “Must be a full moon or something,” he whispered. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was about to go down.
Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 10-09-2014
The color plate slipped from the iris of her left eye, allowing Linda’s scanner to access the cards. “You are not Henry A. Jacobs nor are you Ping X. Piu or any of the others in this stack.” She slipped a captivity loop around his right foot which tightened as he tried to run, knees slamming against the concrete. “I’m not really interested in a fake ID as much as taking you in,” Linda said, her chip receiving confirmation of processing action. “And I’ve had my card numbers stolen three or four times now; huge pain in the ass,” she added from her human thought and speech center. “If I find my name in any of these piles, I’ll be tearing something off as a souvenir.”