Category: Stichomancy Prompts

Changa Wasn’t Really His Wife

  • his rodent-like face
  • the shrieking of something
  • to whom he was married
  • another man’s flesh
  • slid from his belt
  • in his rubbery grip

Changa wasn’t really his wife, she was just the person to whom he was married at age five in the tradition of his people. All he recalled of the ceremony was itchy clothes and the shrieking of something about eternal honor and sacrifice. The stunned newlyweds had been compelled to kiss, and then avoided each other for the next twelve years.

Now Changa was hot. The kind of hot that makes you sweat. As she strolled through the market, the broom felt heavy in his rubbery grip. Urgency slid from his belt, and he had to be alone for a minute.

He hated the idea of her tasting another man’s flesh, kissing his rodent-like face. Anger darkened his world.

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As The Mumu Princess

  • by jenMay your rod soften!
  • perhaps a seal
  • now she was all sweet decorum
  • the Mumu princess came down
  • where the clumped kelp grew
  • upon one elbow

As the mumu princess came down the church aisle, Lola the wedding planner admired her fanciful wedding gown, especially where the clumped kelp grew upon one elbow in the shape of an aquatic mammal — perhaps a seal, perhaps a sea lion.

It was a miracle they’d gotten the stubborn girl out of her mumus. Lola and her staff had earned their money there. With the help of the bride’s own father they’d convinced her something dressier than a flowing, shapeless robe was called for.

The mumu princess was furious with her father for interfering. She’d even yelled, “May your rod soften!” which seemed to Lola a wholly inappropriate insult to hurl at one’s father.

The mumu princess’s anger cooled eventually, she acquiesced, and now she was all sweet decorum.

Lola wished her new husband luck.

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Two Strips of Dried Meat

  • strips of dried meat
  • hissed over her bones
  • with a delicate flush of exertion
  • very well. We’ll take the sled
  • a clump of creeping lichen
  • “Fuck you, Judy!”

Two strips of dried meat and a clump of creeping lichen hung from the brim of Judy’s hat. When she beheld the vast bleak landscape in every direction, fear hissed over her bones like wind-driven sleet. She had entrusted not only her own life but her family’s also to a lunatic hermit.

Summer had only recently abandoned these wastes, and already the threat of snow growled on the wind. Judy, with a delicate flush of exertion, had just persuaded her toothless guide that they should drag their supplies on a sled, to be prepared for the arrival of the drifts.

“Very well. We’ll take the sled,” the old man conceded haughtily.

“I should think you would agree with me,” Judy said. “Aren’t you an expert on winter travel?”

“Fuck you, Judy!” he proclaimed. “Next you’ll ask me what the flippers are for!”

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You Told Me

  • by jenI spat at her
  • “Oh my head!”
  • but Charles had no son
  • dropped her ample chin
  • a madman’s mocking game
  • the butler put my cloak

“You told me that Charles and his son were conspiring to make a fool of me, Mother! You said he did not love me! That it was nothing more than a madman’s mocking game! But Charles had no son, and no daughter either.”

My mother dropped her ample chin to her even more ample bosom and moaned, “Oh my head!”

I spat at her and stormed away to find where the butler put my cloak. I never wanted to see my filthy, lying mother again.

I would marry Charles, no matter that he was 40 years older than I, and my mother’s object of obsession.

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“You Don’t Have To Whisper”

  • ten seconds and counting
  • a sleek little black bra
  • maple-leaf-red hydraulic oil
  • the color of urine on snow
  • you don’t have to whisper, boy
  • “Squishy.”
  • though they had no sex

“You don’t have to whisper, boy,” growled Titania.

“Squishy.” Felix averted his eyes, trying not to look at Titania in nothing but hotpants and a sleek little black bra, seeing instead the puddles of machine fluids: maple-leaf-red hydraulic oil and coolant the color of urine on snow.

“Sorry, pneumatics are out of adjustment.” Titania strutted over to the air compressor and applied the nozzle to her various pulchritude valves.

Felix longed for the time before she was fully assembled, when he could caress her components on his terms. Now, though they had no sex, his soul flooded with guilt for even seeing her, for looking upon her animation.

“Gratification sequence initiated,” Titania purred. “Ten seconds and counting.”

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I’m Getting Overeducated

  • by jenby the time I reached my adolescence
  • this filthy little segmented thing
  • he could make us all suffer
  • recommended the Eggs Benedict
  • his ears are adorable
  • I’m getting overeducated
  • kissed Sharon lightly on the cheek

I’m getting overeducated in regards to sex. By the time I reached my adolescence I’d seen it all, thanks to my older sister Sharon.

Our mother split when we were little, and our father was always out drinking, so it fell to Sharon to raise me and teach me the ways of the world.

Her boyfriend’s name was Hans, and he could make us all suffer with his attempts to speak English. Sharon didn’t care. “His ears are adorable!” she would say.

One night Hans arrived at our apartment and kissed Sharon lightly on the cheek. Mere moments later she was on her knees before him and he was pulling this filthy little segmented thing out of his trousers. I didn’t want to see any more.

I cleared my throat to remind them I was there. Hans told me to go to the diner and get something to eat. He recommended the Eggs Benedict.

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Your Guinea Pigs Would Ask

  • “You were hunting whales?”
  • nine minutes by railway
  • linking his eyeball movements to the computer
  • You need a tiger
  • your guinea pigs would
  • taking a cocktail napkin

Your guinea pigs would ask, “You were hunting whales?” their piping voices protesting in unison and three-part harmony. And you’d reply that it was none of their business and go to your office, nine minutes by railway from your dingy garden apartment. On the way, you’d contemplate what’s missing in your life. You need a tiger, a security tiger with a special implant linking his eyeball movements to the computer. He might eat your guinea pigs, for which you would be grateful. You imagine him taking a cocktail napkin from the stack on the credenza and daintily blotting his whiskers. No more judgemental guinea pigs. They don’t know how it was, with those whales.

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“You Terwilliger?”

  • by jenthe minister started to protest
  • You Terwilliger?
  • a skull with candy lettering
  • a tapestry of golden bees
  • jerked the boy upward
  • an alien tongue

“You Terwilliger?” the burly man demanded.

The minister started to protest that he was not, in fact, Terwilliger, but then he realized that the burly man was not talking to him. The minister turned his attention and saw a teenage boy standing behind him in line, clutching a skull with candy lettering that read something unintelligible in an alien tongue. On his chin a tapestry of golden bees formed the beard that puberty had not yet provided.

The burly man jerked the boy upward, scattering the bee beard into an angry cloud.

“The boss has been waiting for that,” the burly man said, indicating the decorated skull and dragging the boy inside the nightclub.

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Dave Could Not Believe

  • a chorus of raspberries
  • gimme!
  • groped for buttons on the underside
  • hollow-eyed and pale
  • spread-eagle on the hood of the patrol cruiser
  • unmitigated imbecility

Dave could not believe his own unmitigated imbecility. He frowned through the windshield at the policemen, hollow-eyed and pale, from his perch spread-eagle on the hood of the patrol cruiser. He’d defeated the alarm system and picked four locks, only to get run down by the fuzz while jaywalking.

As the money he’d dropped fluttered down the street, Dave groped for buttons on the underside of his watchband, hoping the transition to a universe where he could be so stupid had also remade his timepiece into a versatile super-weapon. Gimme!

No use.

The officers got out and cuffed him to a chorus of raspberries from the other pedestrians.

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Lady Emily Walked Her Horse

  • by jenthey would be eating lunch
  • if they contain a fish tooth
  • felt slick and slippery
  • looked like an awkward-legged deer
  • walked her horse as slow as you please
  • the hideous creature roaming the woods

Lady Emily walked her horse as slow as you please on the path through the forest. Everyone at the manor house would be waiting for her. If not for her absence they would be eating lunch. But a lady never hurries.

Of course Lady Emily had heard the rumors of the hideous creature roaming the woods, but had paid them no heed. Why should she listen to the ramblings of peasants? As if they contain a fish tooth of wisdom!

Movement in the trees off to her left caught Lady Emily’s attention. It looked like an awkward-legged deer until it snarled and pounced.

The reins suddenly felt slick and slippery in Lady Emily’s grip as her mount whinnied in fright, and bolted.

Quick as you please, Lady Emily found herself unseated. She thumped gracelessly to the ground and turned to face the Beast.

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