The story of the week for November 7 to 11 is…
Fortune Teller by Candace Kubinec
I can picture the expressions on the characters’ faces and the intense moment that caps the story off. So much mystery is packed in here. Great work.
HILLARY NICHOLS: A Hostess’s Glee
Margaret understood what was expected of her. She had been raised properly and was skilled in etiquette, poise, and all things ladylike and mature.
However, there was a certain satisfaction in watching the knife plunge repeatedly into the body of yet another lifeless, unappealing, and unsympathetic excuse for a turkey.
Hillary hopes you enjoy your holidays despite whatever sinister fantasy may surface.
CANDACE KUBINEC: Fortune Teller
She beckoned to me with a crooked finger.
I stepped into her tent, dropping coins in a box.
Fanning the cards in front of me, she smiled an evil smile.
I chose a card then, hopefully, held it up.
She reached into the box and handed back my coins.
Candace Kubinec wrote this story.
JENNIFER L FREED: Our Father
He was never much for talking,
but he must have felt
our youthful lack of questions
as a wound: when
we asked him, later—
when we were old enough
to dare—why
he’d never told us
more
of who he was,
his answer flared
quick and sharp:
You
never asked.
Jennifer L. Freed usually writes poetry but likes the challenge of micro-fiction. She recently had a 100-word story (“The Lesser”) published in The Citron Review. Her website is jfreed.weebly.com.
GUY PRESTON: Last Breath of a Cowboy
Grandpa was terminal. My flight was tomorrow, the tickets were booked; I had delayed telling him until now.
He looked at me, but his gaze spanned a thousand miles. Then he smiled, smoothing wrinkled cheeks and pulling ridged scars taut across his jaw.
“…Long time since I been to Texas…”
It’s been two years, three months, and nineteen days since Guy was in Texas. This is his fifteenth 50-word story.
JON NIXON: Just a Bump in the Road
She was lovely.
I felt like I really got to know her on that journey.
She spoke passionately; I mainly listened.
I felt she warmed to me.
Her purposeful words gave me a real sense of direction.
But falling in love with the SatNav girl was just another dead end.
Jon is from the northwest of England and has had many bumps in the road. He works in local government with a background in Newspaper Journalism. He likes writing short stuff and is inspired by all forms of flash and micro fiction.
SUSAN GALE WICKES: Sweet Misery
Marcia stepped on the scales one last time. After two long weeks, the chances of this diet actually working appeared to be slim. She normally wasn’t one for resignation, but reality had begun to set in.
She should have known the “cupcakes only” diet was too good to be true.
JOEY TO: The Oak Tree
The oak stood tall in all seasons,
In summer, she rested in its shade.
In winter, the oak wished for her,
But never she came.
In spring, the oak was glad,
Until she turned up with another,
And as they sang happily under the oak,
It fell and squashed them.
Joey is obviously no poet. You can visit him at joeytoey.com.
SHEENA: An Unfortunate Reality
Staring at the beige wall, tears streaming down my face, the salty taste annoys me as it drips into my mouth.
*Knock, knock*
“One moment!” I call out while wiping my eyes. Checking my red eyes aren’t noticeable, I turn the lock, plaster on a smile, and open the door.
Sheena is a Grade 8 student attending Vernon Christian School who enjoys reading, playing volleyball, and listening to music.
DEVON R WIDMER: The Tale of Sir Primpsalot
“Any last requests?”
Flames licked the dragon’s scaly lips as she leered at the knight splayed beneath her talons.
“Just one.” The knight tossed his golden curls. “Try not to singe my hair.”
The notice hung from the cathedral gate:
Funeral Service Tonight
For Sir Primpsalot the Vain
(Closed casket)
Lady Devon the Thoughtful has never met a dragon but doubts one would be inclined to humor a pretentious knight.