Friday Fictioneers: Too Many Deaths


Alright, let’s see… Winter’s night, ground full of snow, she meets him, keels over and dies. Oh wait, he meets her, faints in her arms and dies??? Ah, what’s wrong with me and death? I dream about death… I write about death… Wait, have I been experiencing bouts of existential crises? Have I? No!!! Let’s…

Friday Fictioneers: Imprisoned


Approaching the Mystical Tree, she whispered, “Grandfather?” Slowly, a white, bony hand emerges. “You’ve come, child.” “Yes and I brought nourishment.” She handed him the bags of blood. Thirstily, he devoured bag upon bag. “I wish I brought more.” “You did good, child. I will be satiated for days. Besides, it isn’t as though I…

Friday Fictioneers: Christmas Bedtime Story


“They call this the “Scrooge Farm”. Instead of Christmas decoration each year, around Christmas, there would be scarecrows dressed in rags and sandbags for heads popping up in random places ’round the farm. Now, no one has ever seen the owner as there’s no house on the hundred-acre property. “

Friday Fictioneers: Crapulously Fabulous


Great, fantastique, awesome, super. Just how many more different ways can I exaggerate this situation? I don’t know what gave anyone the idea or the impression I can single-handedly put together a Thanksgiving dinner in 4 hours. 4 HOURS!!! There I was, slaving away in the kitchen – turkey, vegetables, and stuffing in the oven,…