June 22, 2018

Friday Night Audio Adventure: “Magus Elgar”

Friday Night Audio Adventure: “Magus Elgar”

For the next three weeks, Fictional Cafe is proud to entertain you with an audio adventure starring Magus Elgar. It’s a comedic fantasy that will entertain your socks off, inspired by the works of Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, Simon R. Green, J.K. Rowling, and other great authors. After a magical spell throws an eccentric magi named Magus Elgar and his student into a world of science, they must apply all of their skills to find the scientific tools that have appeared in their world – before they end up in the wrong hands. Please click on the arrow below to listen to the first episode of “Magus Elgar.” If you’re dying to know more, please visit the website by clicking here. We’ll play episodes 2 and 3 consecutively on the next two Friday nights.

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June 18, 2018

“Juneteenth” by Sarah Kersey

“Juneteenth” by Sarah Kersey

Editor’s Note: On June 19, 1865, the last emancipation of the black people of the United States took place. Occurring in Texas, slavery was that day finally and completely abolished. Although little known or recognized, this final act of abolition was named “Freedom Day” and is often remembered today as “Juneteenth,” for June nineteenth. We are honored to offer you this poetic narrative  entitled “Juneteenth,” commissioned especially for the Fictional Café to recognize this day, written by Sarah Kersey.   Juneteenth I must have died, because now I am free. I couldn’t have. Not today. That general—Galveston is his name?—rode in on his steed. For some reason, I pictured Michael on the white horse in Revelation. General looked defeated. A savior’s a savior, no matter what. How could my master be free, but I am…

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April 8, 2018

“Stinkbugs” by Michael Colbert

“Stinkbugs” by Michael Colbert

The stinkbugs came in when Sandra’s sister was dying. Every night after cooking dinner, Robert sat down on his couch to watch “Breaking Bad.” A hum announced itself and his eyes alighted on the perpetrator, a flat brown bug that jetted across the ceiling and then lazed on a new perch. He caught them and released them and wondered how he could eradicate the stinkbugs from his apartment. One time the stinkbug was green. Robert worked at a small furniture startup called Simple Build in New Haven. They sold couches and coffee tables that were easier to put together than products from Ikea. Robert was in marketing; their chief audience was millennials, except all of their furniture was too expensive for millennials. As a result, most of the people who bought their products and liked…

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April 3, 2018

“Witches Gone Wicked: Womby’s School for Wayward Witches” By Sarina Dorie, Part 2

“Witches Gone Wicked: Womby’s School for Wayward Witches” By Sarina Dorie, Part 2

As promised, following Chapters 1 and 2 yesterday, here are Chapters 3 and 4 of Witches Gone Wicked. If you like what you’ve read, the author has a special, limited time offer for you. You can have a free copy of the ebook in exchange for writing a brief review. If you’re interested, please go to InstaFreebie to claim your copy. Once you’ve finished, please thank Sarina by posting a review on Amazon or Goodreads.   Witches Gone Wicked: Womby’s School for Wayward Witches by Sarina Dorie Chapter Three Encounters of the Witchkin Kind   I had hoped that once I came to Womby’s, everything would be clear to me: I would understand where I came from and how my powers worked. Now that I knew my best friend, Derrick, was in this realm, I…

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March 28, 2018

“A Poet of Sorts” by Rashmi Prakash

“A Poet of Sorts” by Rashmi Prakash

Here is a lovely, reflective poem for you today. I. Cross, out-of-sorts at odds, always in want of a better word I’m a poet of sorts.   Crucified on the cross- roads of time and purpose I stand and ponder: if the road I’m on   is less traveled or more? Cars spin 360 degrees below, as I watch from my Ivory Tower   40 feet above is enough too much reality is not good for me. I’m fussy.   I don’t like to get my feet dirty. Head planted firmly in the clouds I take great strides   across the seven seas. Cross deserts; climb peaks. Sometimes, I’m seen millions of light years away.   I straddle both worlds. Clearly, I’ve businesses of my own to attend. Philosopher at large   sage, devil, demigod…

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February 6, 2018

“Sitter Envy” by Christopher S. Bell

“Sitter Envy” by Christopher S. Bell

Even on a Friday, Nina felt guilty calling off. She wouldn’t have to improvise a cough on Monday; her fellow technicians recapping their weekends in expenses and well-planned excursions, an occasional raw moment surfacing from the dust. Usually this meant somebody out of place wandered in, caused a ruckus, and migrated back to their designated end. Flagstaff had many corners to facilitate bad habits. “Don’t pick your nose, honey,” Nina instructed her son, both mildly catatonic on the sofa. She’d wanted to have an adventure with Levi that day, take him somewhere new and gauge his expression. Instead, her four-year-old spent a good portion of the morning sleeping before they discussed Shirley over breakfast. The young boy had grown quite fond of his babysitter, championing their endless summer in between bites. Beyond disappointment, Nina felt…

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January 31, 2018

“Forgetting She Forgot” by Roger McKnight

“Forgetting She Forgot” by Roger McKnight

Addie Voss’s Michael was the one with asthma, but she learned to share it with him.  He wheezed and hacked and she complained about his clogged-up tubes like they were her own.  Looking for relief, the two fled Illinois and headed for sunny Albuquerque, but the desert air gave Michael nosebleeds.  In Redding and Denver, it was the heat or the altitude.  That had been the go-around since they got married in the early ‘90s, nomading it here and there, looking, hoping. Now today, an ordinary Tuesday, Addie was waiting in confusion at San Francisco International for a plane back to Minneapolis, their latest city, where she had left Michael and their four kids a couple days earlier.  For Michael, jobs were plentiful in Minnesota, even if breathing remained a chore.  She guessed other things…

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January 4, 2018

New Year’s Poetry by Chimezie Ihekuna

New Year’s Poetry by Chimezie Ihekuna

Editor’s Note: Please see Simran’s review of  Chimezie’s – “Mr. Ben’s” – collected works in the Reviews section. Be Inspired When you’re down, you tend to be close to your feet and consequently, close to defeat. But for the sake of success, please rise to your feet. That’s the feat!                                          Succeeding The Race Success is the race, So, you should to move at your pace  After all, it’s your lane So don’t let your strength wane It’s about completing your journey Don’t let anyone take you funny There are no competitions Because you know your onions Reaching the finish line is its own accomplishment Then you will appreciate the beauty of your commitment   Talking Thoughts Talking can be cheap But its consequence might be difficult to keep Its seeds can be weak…

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December 19, 2017

“Once Pink Youth” – Poetry by Hope Bolinger

“Once Pink Youth” – Poetry by Hope Bolinger

Drip Castles Teardrops of North Carolina sand bite into Pure pink skin, The color of raw sunsets—of a conch’s innards—of a teething child’s gums.   A sunburnt fist Plunges into a wan Bucket full Of sludgy sand.   The Atlantic water on top of the Sunken soil sloshes like Stomach acid.   Fistfuls of sopping slush Form spires of mire, tilt(yards) of silt, ditches of grit—graves of gravel.   Alas, pure pink castles of Muddied fancies Disappear   In a wave Of briny ocean breakers Dissolving into a stump of once-pink youth.   Snow Questions Spring Yellowed school books say Spring makes all fair beings grow, do ashen teachers see sun’s rays—sickles, shred Snow? Sharp grass blades impale, sting? No frail child, browning slush, murky backwash from tires muddied your thoughts. Infant soft moss Spring…

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December 17, 2017

“Etiquette,” A Short Story by William Masters

“Etiquette,” A Short Story by William Masters

I RIDE ELEVATORS.   To reach my office in downtown San Francisco I take the escalator from the ground floor to the mezzanine. From the mezzanine I ride an elevator from elevator bank A to the 21st floor. From the 21st floor I switch to elevator bank B and ride to the 33rd floor on which my office is located. If I arrive in the building between 8:30 and 9:00AM, multiple stops at various floors extend my ride by six to ten minutes.   I rely on gearless traction electrical thrust to deliver me to work.   In order to arrive on time I must also add elevator travel time to my bus commute. Eighteen minutes plus twelve minutes equal thirty minutes. Of course, I still add an additional six to ten minute wait for…

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