This week, Enchanted Conversation Magazine
is featuring two Fairy Tale Flash stories:
The Life-Changing Magic of Getting Your Teenage Wizard Son to Tidy Up by Lena Ng
and
Pizza Pot by Kerry E.B. Black
We hope you enjoy them and share your thoughts
with the authors of these tales in the comments section below.
The young wizard, over the dusty grimoires, rusted talismans, and ancient amulets scattered over the floor, waved his wand and intoned the tangled spell. His arms hung mid-air in anticipation.
Nothing happened.
A head poked into his room. "What about the magic of tidying up? There's a whole book written about it."
"Can't you see I'm busy?"
"It's supposed to change your life."
"Mom, magic is performed to astonish and amaze. Not to clean the toilet."
"I'm amazed I'm still alive. Last week I was almost trampled by a pirouetting bison."
"That's because I pronounced a spell word wrong. It's supposed to be 'syllables', not 'silly bulls'."
Mom wrinkled her nose at the magically malodorous smell. "If you don't clean up your room, you can't borrow the keys to the broom."
"FINE."
Lena Ng is a writer and poet from Toronto, Ontario. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in several anthologies and magazines including: Just Desserts(WolfSinger Publications, 2016), World Unknown Review III (Editor L.S. Engler, 2016), Devolution Z (Jan 2017 issue), Monsters Among Us (Bloody Kisses Press, 2017), Polar Borealis Magazine (July/Aug 2017 issue, Spring 2018 issue), Gathering Storm Magazine Issue 2 (April 2017), Gathering Storm Magazine Issue 4 (Aug2017), Antimattermag.com (Oct 4, 2017), The Quilliad Issue 9 (Oct 2017), and Killing It Softly 2 (Digital Fiction Publishing Corp, October 2017). "Under an Autumn Moon" is her collection of horror/fantasy short stories. She is currently seeking a publisher for her first novel, Darkness Beckons, a gothic romance set in the Victorian era.
A tiny man thrashed but couldn’t free himself from a tangled fishing line.
Virginia rubbed her eyes. At fourteen, she felt well past the age of believing in fairies, even if one struggled at her feet. Still, there it was, and being a sensible person, she decided to help him and sort out the belief issues later. Besides, her big sister would return soon, and Virginia didn’t want to explain a tiny humanoid to her.
“Hold still. I’ll free you,” she said, brandishing her pocket knife.
The little man shrieked.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Hold still or I might accidentally.” The line bit into her fingers.
Soon, the fairy brushed his aspen-green suit loose. He tipped his head and narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t ask for your help, you know, so I don’t owe you anything.”
Virginia pushed to a stand. The little man barely cleared the top of her worn fuzzy ankle boots. “I didn’t say you did,” She scowled, “but a thank you might be nice.”
He covered his mouth as though shocked by her language. “I’ll give you one wish.”
Virginia snorted. “Really? Like in…” she paused, about to say, “like in the fairy tales?” but remembered the obviously not-human creature. “Well, my sister and I are hungry, but I don’t want just one meal or something.” She licked her lips, and her stomach growled. At that moment, she’d have been satisfied with one meal, but how often does one see - let alone rescue – a fairy? “Our parents died, and we’re taking care of each other.” She studied her worn jacket-hem.
The fairy steepled his fingers beneath his nose. “I could give you an enchanted cooking pot. It’ll make whatever you want to eat.”
Virginia’s mouth dropped open. “Anything?”
“Certainly.”
Her stomach imitated a bear waking from hibernation. “Can I try it to see how it works?”
The fairy’s face split with glee. “It’s on the bench behind you.” He climbed the wooden bench leg with the skill of a squirrel. “What do you want?” He waggled his eyebrows.
She whispered, “Pizza.” A slice bubbled from the pot. She seized and bit it. Buttery, cheesy, chewy crusted, basil and oregano-rich goodness. “Mmmm.” Virginia closed her eyes, savoring.
“Sounds like you’re satisfied. I’ll be on my way.
When Virginia opened her eyes, her sister glared at her. “Where’d you get that?”
Virginia pointed to the pot and a second piece. Then another. And another. Such was their hunger that neither asked questions, simply stuffed their stomachs until full.
“How do you turn it off?” Virginia searched her surroundings, but no little man explained the mechanics of the pot. It produced piece after piece of delicious pizza without pause until the girls grew fat on it and then began selling pieces until they grew wealthy. They fed pizza to the hungry, but never would the pot stop, and so nobody in their community went hungry ever again.
Virginia rubbed her eyes. At fourteen, she felt well past the age of believing in fairies, even if one struggled at her feet. Still, there it was, and being a sensible person, she decided to help him and sort out the belief issues later. Besides, her big sister would return soon, and Virginia didn’t want to explain a tiny humanoid to her.
“Hold still. I’ll free you,” she said, brandishing her pocket knife.
The little man shrieked.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Hold still or I might accidentally.” The line bit into her fingers.
Soon, the fairy brushed his aspen-green suit loose. He tipped his head and narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t ask for your help, you know, so I don’t owe you anything.”
Virginia pushed to a stand. The little man barely cleared the top of her worn fuzzy ankle boots. “I didn’t say you did,” She scowled, “but a thank you might be nice.”
He covered his mouth as though shocked by her language. “I’ll give you one wish.”
Virginia snorted. “Really? Like in…” she paused, about to say, “like in the fairy tales?” but remembered the obviously not-human creature. “Well, my sister and I are hungry, but I don’t want just one meal or something.” She licked her lips, and her stomach growled. At that moment, she’d have been satisfied with one meal, but how often does one see - let alone rescue – a fairy? “Our parents died, and we’re taking care of each other.” She studied her worn jacket-hem.
The fairy steepled his fingers beneath his nose. “I could give you an enchanted cooking pot. It’ll make whatever you want to eat.”
Virginia’s mouth dropped open. “Anything?”
“Certainly.”
Her stomach imitated a bear waking from hibernation. “Can I try it to see how it works?”
The fairy’s face split with glee. “It’s on the bench behind you.” He climbed the wooden bench leg with the skill of a squirrel. “What do you want?” He waggled his eyebrows.
She whispered, “Pizza.” A slice bubbled from the pot. She seized and bit it. Buttery, cheesy, chewy crusted, basil and oregano-rich goodness. “Mmmm.” Virginia closed her eyes, savoring.
“Sounds like you’re satisfied. I’ll be on my way.
When Virginia opened her eyes, her sister glared at her. “Where’d you get that?”
Virginia pointed to the pot and a second piece. Then another. And another. Such was their hunger that neither asked questions, simply stuffed their stomachs until full.
“How do you turn it off?” Virginia searched her surroundings, but no little man explained the mechanics of the pot. It produced piece after piece of delicious pizza without pause until the girls grew fat on it and then began selling pieces until they grew wealthy. They fed pizza to the hungry, but never would the pot stop, and so nobody in their community went hungry ever again.
Kerry E.B. Black would love to share an intriguing view of her elegant estates and sumptuous gardens, but those places reside only in her imagination. In fact, her home is little more than a little suburban doll house surrounded by herbs and flowers, a bog, and a meadow where magical fogs creep on wolfish paws to clothe the mornings. She spends her days as many Americans do, balancing multiple schedules and worrying over finances. Nights she reserves for visiting the fantastic world of writing.
Please visit the author at www.facebook.com/authorKerryE.B.Black
https://kerrylizblack.wordpress.com/
and follow her on Twitter @BlackKerryblick
Story Graphics: Amanda Bergloff
Please visit the author at www.facebook.com/authorKerryE.B.Black
https://kerrylizblack.wordpress.com/
and follow her on Twitter @BlackKerryblick
Story Graphics: Amanda Bergloff
