Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
Jane looked at the cake in awe.
“Now close your eyes, blow out the candles and make a wish,” said Rebecca.
So Jane did, and she kept her eyes shut until her father stopped breathing.
Original photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash. Thanks to Warren for the continued $10 Patronage.
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“No horse,” sighed Sprite. “Your spellings as bad as the illustrators.”
“Well, the English language is stupid,” grumbled Horse. “I before e my fuzzy mane.”
“It’s a given rule mate,” replied Sprite. “Except for when my foreign neighbour Keith, a weightlifting financier from Leith, was in a feisty heist with eight reindeer.”
“Oh, piss off,” growled Horse.
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“This is not what I meant,” growled Spectre, “and you know it!”
“Well I’m not taking it back,” sighed Sprite, putting the tortoise in a chefs hat onto the kitchen counter.
“I’m with Sprite on this,” said Yuffie. “I mean, you didn’t specify a brand or anything when you asked for a slow cooker.”
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“I’ve just seen the police knocking down Black-fish’s door,” sighed Blue.
“Oh no,” gasped White. “What happened?”
“Once the door was down, they went inside and began singing ‘Every breath you take,’” replied Blue.
“I see,” pondered White. “So it was a sting?”
Shout out to my new Patreon, Clare London of clarelondon.com and thanks to Warren for the continued $10 Patronage.
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Story by Cyranny
“Hit me again, man!”
The old neon lights flickered annoyingly, giving a cheap stroboscopic feeling to every move the barman made, behind the counter. Bolt pushed his empty glass on the bar.
“If I keep the refills coming, you’ll get totally hammered. You know that, right?”
Bolt’s stare back was probably intended as a clear request to shut up and fill his glass, but since the bar tender didn’t show any intention of reaching for the scotch bottle, Bolt mumbled…
“That would be the plan. Unless you suddenly have scruples?”
The barman laughed, and his very white teeth blinked like a Cheshire Cat disco smile.
“And what is the occasion, if I may ask?”
Bolt frowned, still waiting for his booze.
“Remember the red head girl I offered a ride home, last Friday?” The barman nodded. “Well, I gave her a ride, home. I nailed her. “
The bar tender finally reached for the bottle on the shelf.
“Did your wife….?”
“Yup, she found out. I am a terrible liar.”
The man poured him a double and gave him a sympathetic look.
“Oh, Bolt… I am sorry.”
Bolt downed the drink, and handed his glass for another.
“Yup, I’m screwed.”
This week’s Sunday collab was written by Cyranny of Cyranny’s Cove. Pretty sure y’all know Cyranny by now. A long time Fears’erer, prolific blogger and scribbler of words.
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“Could someone give DCI Lily a call,” asked Reala.
“Sure,” replied Lucy. “Something up?”
“I think Sprite just stole my anti-depressants,” grumbled Reala.
“Darn,” said Fuen. “I hope he’s happy with himself.”
I didn’t find any particular phobias of pills, although there’s a lot of people with a fear of swallowing pills. I did discover there’s a medication phobia known as pharmacophobia. A fear of pharmacological treatments. That’s gotta be a bit of a bother to have.
Thanks to Warren for the continued $10 Patronage.
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The corvid sat in the tree outside. Peering through the window. Crows, ravens, rooks and magpies assembled underneath. They’d peer around the curtains, always looking for the televisions.
He left the curtains open and TV on to see if they’d get bored and leave him alone. They sat outside all night. Watching the static and listening to the white noise. Only moving on, when they’d received their instructions.
For all the Fuen’isms I’ve written on this website, she’s never been in a horror/weird fiction story. Funny thing. As a crow spirit, I have a lot of scope to shift her to the weird fiction side. It’s just never occurred to me to do it before.
Do you know what has occurred to me? Putting her on a t-shirt, and I’ve put her on loads over on my Threadless store. Need a link? littlefears.threadless.com
Currently with free shipping, just copypasta the following code: FREESHIP4197cca8e
Thanks to Warren for the continued $10 Patronage.
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“You look upset,” said Pedestrian.
“Well,” sighed Puddle. “My nan just got scammed. 92 years old. They stole her credit card details and everything.”
“Darn,” replied Pedestrian. “Sounds bad!”
“It is,” sighed Puddle. “But hey, for just £25 I’ll teach you how not to get scammed.”
Hah, now that was a damp squib of a story. Do you know what isn’t a damp squib? The Little Fears tees on Threadless. You can nobble one here: littlefears.threadless.com
Thanks to Warren for the continued $10 Patronage.
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“She hasn’t spoken to me all week,” sighed Lucy.
“Oh dear,” replied Yuffie. “What’s happened?”
“She got mad at me because I didn’t open the car door for her,” grumped Lucy.
“Is that all?” pondered Yuffie.
“Yeah,” said Lucy. “I just panicked and swam for the shore…”
If you’re going we’re going to go dark with a pun, we’ll go Lucy dark. If you love our Lucy, you might like to know her portraits available on the Little Fears Etsy store: littlefears.etsy.com
Thanks to Warren for the continued $10 Patronage.
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Story by Lauren
How do you overcome the darkness on the path less traveled when there is no one around. You can see that this path is overgrown and not many would dare follow this path.
We all have our deamons to fight, we all have our memories to fall back on, nevertheless what happens when the path less traveled is so dark so overgrown that you can not see your memories or feel the deamons.
You can only feel the darkness seeping into your reality, into your mind and your thoughts.
This week’s Sunday collab was written by Lauren of Life Inside BDSM. A prolific writer of naughtiness. Thank you for the spookems, Lauren!
Thanks to Warren for the continued $10 Patronage.
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Little Fears 