Wishing Well

“If XXXX (she named the presidential candidate she preferred) gets elected, you can make a wish and I’ll make sure it comes true,” she said and gave him a smile that didn’t leave room for any interpretation.

She had been on his mind for quite some time now, so it was pretty obvious what he’d wish for.

But he didn’t.

Having felt something disturbing in his private parts, he desired something completely different.

Good news came a few days later: her candidate won and his result for testicular cancer came back negative.

Unfortunately, the brain tumor hadn’t been noticed yet.

From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

Hervé (°1968 – Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and he hasn’t stopped since. Generally he writes them hatless and barefooted.

The Death Of Tales

The mist glistens with false promises. The canopy drips blood of myriad misled bards vanquished by the Mediocre tribe.

The incantation echoes through the rain forest, causing even lianas to cringe. “We have decided not...”

The shaman feels tears slow to a reticent trickle from still-closed eyes. His heart freezes with horror, sharp mind balking from interpretation.

“Vates!”

It takes a moment to understand he is being addressed.

Lids snap open. “Yes?”

“Did the Mystic Mushroom bring wisdom?” The bard asks, handing him a bowl of spring water.

Cathbad rises from the straw bed. “No, Carolan, a warning of ignorance."

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid