Recharge – #SoCS

The close-minded man is mortified when it turns out that the world has two moons. One is the same which the men land on – the other hangs outside his window at night and is made of cheese. He views it at first as a figment of his imagination, but being close-minded, that only last for a few seconds. Then night after night he opens up his window and pulls it down and eats it, only to find it hanging there again the next night, as if it has recharged itself.

The cheese moon has no cycles he realizes after a week. It is always full, and after a month, when he has grown three sizes larger, he sees that it will not go away.

The close-minded man’s mortification eventually turns him to petrification: his unwillingness to believe in the cheese moon transforms him into a petrified chunk of cheese, staring out his window at the cycles of the moon, and a piece of cheese hanging from a string, held by his upstairs neighbour.


Brought to you by The Daily Post and Stream of Consciousness Saturday, which you can find the prompt for here:

pixie childe

she lay awake
’til the break of dawn
and watch
as fairies
tuck themselves
away in corners
among the dust
then she closes her eyes
and dreams

tall grass
dip’t in dew
glistens in the light
of sparks sprinkled
from fairy wands
the prism’d rainbows
arc ‘cross black sky
cut by lightning
rendering sleep

Bleak – an 100-word story

“Well then John, if she won’t have me, I’ll marry someone else!”

“You can’t just ‘marry someone else,’ old chap. The wedding is scheduled for tomorrow. You’ll have to call it off.”

“But I can’t do that. There are people coming from all over the world. I know, I’ll call Cupid.”

“Please don’t.”

“It’s too late. There he is at the window! Wait! Don’t aim it at me now!”


“John? Please, will you marry me?”

“I should rather die!”

“But then, who will be my best man?”

“It won’t be me, old chap. I don’t swing that way.”


The Man in the Mirror

Chain mail

“How does your chain mail feel?” I ask him from the driver’s seat.

“It’s heavy,” he scowls.


It all started one day when I was sitting in the parking lot of a Tim Horton’s, eating ham and Swiss cheese on a croissant with lettuce and tomato. I was half-way through my sandwich when I heard a knock on the back window of my mini-van. I thought at first that maybe it was someone I knew. I looked in both side mirrors to see if someone was approaching the front of the car but I saw no one on foot. When I looked in the rear-view however, there he was. Needless to say I jumped – I’d thought I was alone.

“What are you doing in my car?” I shrieked at the diminutive green man in my farthest back seat. I hopped out of the van before he could answer, which was silly, because I’d left my keys in the ignition. When I reached in through the window to retrieve them he spoke.

“You asked for me!”

“I did what? Who are you?”

He puffed up his chest and gave me a wide multi-cuspate-toothed smile. “I am your prince charming!” His sharply pointed ears twitched and his finely pronged nose lifted as he said this. He was obviously quite proud of his appearance.

“But you don’t look a bit like a prince charming to me!”

“I don’t?”

“You’re green!”

“Oh my!” he exclaimed, and he disappeared.


Three days later I heard a knock on the window of my van. I was driving at the time.

“I can’t look right now,” I said, because I was concentrating on the road.

“That’s okay,” came the same voice I had heard from the little green elf-like man.

As soon as I came to a stop light I tilted my head so I could see into the farthest back seat of the car. He wasn’t there. The light turned green. I started driving.

“Pull over,” he said.

“You’ll have to wait.” I was getting annoyed at this strange being I’d been anticipating for three long days.

Just as I got to a driveway, I heard, from directly behind me.

“Oh dear. I’m still a bit green.”

By the time I pulled over I was alone.


It was two weeks before I heard the knock on the back window of my van again. I had just pulled into the parking lot of the local mall, and was looking for a spot. It was raining heavily and I lacked an umbrella, but I needed drugs. From the drug store for a change.

“Are you still green?” I asked.

“No.” His voice was as smooth as silk and as deep as dark chocolate.

I found a spot and backed in, hoping for a glimpse of my prince charming. When I put the van in park I saw him leaning between the front seats, in my rear-view mirror. He was stunning. Everything I had ever imagined in a man and… that voice…

“I’m yours to do with whatever you wish.” 70% Cocoa.

“Stay here then, I just have to run in…” The store was about to close.

“I also belong to your van,” he disclosed in a timbre fit for only the bedroom.

“What the…”

“I can’t leave your van.”

“So what’s the use of having a prince charming?”

“We can go parking.”

When I came back from the drug store he was gone.


“Why do you even bother with the chain mail?” I ask him.

“I failed as a prince charming, I thought maybe you’d like a knight in shining armor.”

“Well there was that one time…” We’re at a stop sign. I look in the mirror and see the grin I’ve come to love more than life itself.

“That was fun,” he smirks.

“Why can’t we do that again?” I ask, starting to move down the street.

“Because regardless of what you want, you NEED a knight in shining armor now.”

“What for?” I ask.


I open my eyes and there is a light shining above me. Florescent. A face with a mask.

“How are you feeling?” I masculine voice with raised, groomed, eyebrows.

“My van…” I croak. I barely recongise my own voice.

“Ma’am, your van was totalled. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“No!” I screech.

I want to die.