Lost

The only time I thought I’d seen a fairy was awakening with a hangover and propped up by the television set playing a Disney channel. But now I’m sober, standing upright, and engaged in talking to one that’s lost her way. She had proved her credentials with a wave of her wand and producing a glass of some mixture she said would quell the aftereffects of over-imbibing, but her wand wasn’t up to the GPS instrumentation. I didn’t tell her that her mob lived at the bottom of my garden. She’s tall and beautiful, and now shacking up with me.

From Guest Contributor Len Mooring

Hotspot

The lone imagineer of the radioactive sand cloud that froze Florida in death and time worked for Disney. Tourists, natives, gangsters, and gators were rendered untouchable beneath a toxic sheet of glass. The reflection burned up satellites and crisped drones mid-air, and it was agreed the whole place should be forgotten, for now. So they forgot the flamingos and the dancing girls and the cigar factories in Tampa where the son cubano played on. Nobody remembered to forget the island past Key West where an old man sold boat rides to Havana for five dollars and a bottle of rum.

From Guest Contributor Courtney Watson

The Way Things Played Out

We looked around at each other and it was clear that we all shared the same sense of panic. We'd all been shrunk down to a few inches tall, and what had once been a rather shaggy lawn was now a thick forest. Our pet rabbit, Olive, was one hop away from killing us all.

If this were a Disney movie, my siblings and I would have set aside our differences and we would have worked together to overcome a string of comical obstacles before returning to normal height.

This played out more as a Lord Of The Flies scenario.