Category: Super Short Stories

Dear Miss Superiority,

I was left in a state of annoyance upon finishing your litany of arrogance. ‘It’s so easy’ and ‘I do what I want when I want’ were quite bad enough. You then added insult with ‘I don’t know why you struggle so.”

Allow me to explain, though I’m sure it will simply entertain rather than enlighten you. As a birdshifter, my daily experiences are quite different to yours. I am marred with obligation you know nothing about. Can you comprehend what it is like to have your nest continuously relocated by “Shifter Rights” advocates? All of them seem to believe I’d be happier surrounded by nature. I cannot convince them I like the library roof.

I even went as far as attempting to live like you, in an apartment. Simply unacceptable. All of a sudden I was introduced to “cleaning”, what a waste of time. Simply to remain in one place required me to direct large portions of my day to removing shed feathers and carcasses. I need the open air for my nest.

And what would you, with your predator’s instincts, know of food scarcity? The humans are forever headed towards a “safe society”, which means alleyway murders are at an all time low. I am a scavenger, not a predator, yet I find myself having to lure humans into an accident more and more frequently. Yes I could consume the various rodents and marsupials littering the city, as you so readily pointed out, but why? There used to be more than enough humans, I’ll not lower my standard of eating now. Please, I beseech of you, invite me the next time you are hunting in a campground.

Though truly, the bane of my existence are the other birds. You need only deal with your pride. When in bird form I am at the mercy of all and any feathered fool who wishes to give me their life story. It is always the same story with Pigeons, as they are too stupid to come up with anything new. The finches act like five year olds and the kookaburras are bullies. Only the magpies are worth talking to, but even they are subject to impulse and dart off halfway through a sentence. 

I dare not leave this cesspit, for at least there is some food here and the humans are amusing at times. I do not know what concentration of people can be found outside of it. I may take you up on your offer to host me, if only to see what life is like outside of concrete and steel.

434 Words

Week 4 of June Bug: Magical Extermination

The Clumsy Exterminator

197 Words

She had a good mind to give him a permanent ban. Of all the things she’d endured while working here, a solid two thirds were brought about by him.

The imp stood there in the middle of the room with a can of bug spray and a swatter. She loved that he was sweet enough to bring her flowers but wished he’d looked for pests first.

Somewhere among the books was a spider. It appeared the same as any other spider, but one bite was enough to create an itch that spread across the whole body and lasted for many days. It had eluded the imp so long the librarian had joined in the hunt.

After much futile searching, the librarian began flipping through the phone directory, looking for magical pest control, when she saw the tiny creature descend on a thin silver thread, right in front of the imp.

He caught sight of it shortly after and having carefully lined him up, swatted as hard as he could. His squeal was barely heard over the librarian’s laughter. He stormed off to get something cold for his nose, unaware of the spider crawling up his back.

Week 2 of June Bug: Habitat

Hatching Season

188 Words

The heat was worse than usual this year. The basin we called a township was used to searing temperatures and hellish humidity. This year was a new record.

The naive among us hoped it would be too hot for them to rise this summer. The rest of us knew. We prepared. Every summer, just on the solstice, the pixie eggs hatched. Thousands of the batlike creatures swarmed out of the trees, searching for their queen. They ravaged through town, feasting on or infecting anyone in their path.

When the heat hit in earnest we began boarding up windows and doors, covering chimneys with mesh and stockpiling food. No one left their house during hatching season. Well, almost no one. There were always one or two dumb ones. Natural selection, the wife said.

This year was different though. Everybody felt it. They were almost a month late. The dumb ones grew in number, maybe they were right. Maybe it was too hot. A quiet tension grew as resolve started to ebb.

That’s what I remember most. The silence right before the tsunami of pixies descended and the screaming began.

Week 3 of June Bug: Bug Obsession

The Memory Fly

167 Words

He whipped the swatter with all his might, missing the memory fly completely. The damned candles from the witch were no protection at all. The thing had come in just on dusk and he’d been trying to squish it ever since.

He had no intention of stopping. One bite was all it took. He valued his memories. If the government issued spray and the woo woo from the weirdo at the market weren’t enough, then it was time to get physical.

The little pest was quick. He’d chased it around the entire cottage, the pair of them determined to keep going. The memory fly might have won, had it’s path not taken it into the wax of the candles. As it wriggled it’s last the smoke of the flame adopted a purple tinge.

Quickly he put out the candle, but for the life of him couldn’t remember why. As he did his usual routine closing windows and doors before bed, he wondered whose house he was in.

Week No 4 of the MerMay Monthly Writer’s Prompt:

The Oracle’s Skin

330 Words

It was failing to fit in, but then it usually did. He watched as the world’s most awkward woman attempted to sneak along a wall. Her stealth was only matched by her humility. Why his mother insisted on keeping her was beyond him.

“The Octopus People are oracles. She can reveal secrets when we earn her trust.” His mother had indulged in a great many fantasies over the years. However, even he was amazed to see the giant octopus crawl out of the sea and then out of its skin. It appeared to shrink as it shed its gelatinous hide, until a statuesque beauty emerged. Dark eyes and sharp features, she glanced around briefly before walking away up the beach.

His mother had moved faster than he thought possible, snatching up the skin and stuffing it into a bag. Then she shouted after the thing.

“It’s mine! You will return with me, my guest, until such time as I have learned the secrets of the sea. Then you will have your skin back.” To his further amazement, the creature nodded and followed his mother.

That was the last command it obeyed. All the creature had revealed so far was how toweringly high it thought of itself. When it did deign to speak to us, it was guaranteed to use as many insults as it possibly could while answering. It searched relentlessly for its skin. He was impressed with his mother’s cunning in choosing a hiding spot, though from her ongoing irritation she was still none the wiser on the “ocean Lore”. At least octo-lady was easy to look at.

Though a vision of loveliness, the moment she spoke all the beauty faded. Her voice sounded like a person drowning. She reacted to her two legs as though they were at fault she couldn’t climb a wall. He chuckled thinking of her last attempt. If he knew where the damn skin was he’d give it just to be rid of her.

Week No 1 of the MerMay Monthly Writer’s Prompts:

A Petition to Stop the Destruction of the Ancestral Homeland of Merfolk

309 Words

To Whom It May Concern;

I write to you today in the hopes of addressing the proposal to mine near the Northern Shoreline. Not only will this bring no real benefit in terms of revenue to the state, but it will also be detrimental to the merfolk living in the area.

The discovery of the aquatic races of homosapien came as a shock to all. However, now armed with this knowledge we cannot allow projects with such dire impacts to go ahead.

I will highlight what we know of our aquatic brethren, along with how the proposed mining project would cause undue harm to them.

Firstly, the obvious run off of wastewater will contaminate the pristine home of the merfolk. From early observation they were not the only new species discovered, and we as yet don’t know how the wastewater will impact them. From previous ecological events we can assume the effect will not be positive.

The additional people present in the area are the second problem. The merfolk lead a very quiet life when they shoal along the coast. The additional noise pollution would, we believe, be detrimental in securing their continual communication. The merfolk have the potential to change what we know of the ocean and add to our knowledge of the world. 

Lastly, any increase in the movement of supply barges and commerce vessels will create a hazardous zone, restricting the merfolk from reaching the shoreline. These activities can only be seen as a blockade from their side, giving rise to a potentially hostile reaction.

We, the undersigned, implore you not to proceed with approval for the new mine site. Please listen to and engage with the ambassador sent by their people and abandon this pursuit of profit at the expense of a nation.