THE JOY
OF STORY
John M.
Daniel’s Blog
October
29, 2016
Good
eeevening.
That’s what Alfred Hitchcock always
said at the beginning of his television show, which aired from 1955 to 1965. It
was enough to chill you to the edge of your seat. His brief introduction would
be followed by a short drama presented and directed by the Master of Suspense
himself.
This post appears on my blog only a
few days before Halloween, 2016. It’s time to be frightened and entertained at
the same time. So I humbly present a short story that I hope will give you a
few shivers and/or chuckles.
In a word: BOO!
§
DESSERT
by John
M. Daniel
We do this every year. It’s become a
tradition in our family to get together on this special date and have a feast
at midnight. When I say we’re a family, I don’t mean we’re related by blood.
Well, actually we are related by blood,
in a way, but it’s not a genetic thing. It’s a matter of life-style, you could
say. We share a common faith, and we all have the same dietary restrictions
that we must obey.
We used to call ourselves the Tiny
Reindeer, when there were eight of us, but last year Vixen died of a stroke.
Sun stroke. So we changed our names and now we call ourselves the Seven Dwarfs.
I’m Doc.
This is the first year we’ve met at
my house. I was nervous, as this was my first time to host the most important
feast day in our calendar. But all has gone well so far. The Dwarfs all arrived
on schedule, two nights ago, flying in from all over the country like six bats
out of hell.
Last night we prepared the food for
tonight’s dinner. Bashful and Sleepy went out into my garden and gathered weeds
for the salad, while Grumpy cheerfully concocted her delicious dressing of
vinegar, lemon juice, and Listerine, with a tablespoon of salt, a teaspoon of
cayenne, and a dash of witch hazel. Dopey and Happy went out back and gathered
acorns from under my old oak tree, which Sneezy boiled for three hours to brew
tea. We were finished by dawn and were sleepy, as you can imagine. The main
dish would arrive tonight, after dark. We had the oven pre-heating so we could
serve the entrée piping hot at the stroke of midnight.
In the twilight hours, all the
Dwarfs got dressed for dinner, after a good day’s sleep. I stepped out onto the
front porch and lit the candle in the pumpkin. It was a fine night out: still
warm from the sun, which had set; and the street was lit by a rising moon just
two nights past full. I came back into the house, switched on the front porch
light, and joined my six guests in the parlor. There we sat, waiting out the
hours till dinnertime. We talked about what we had each been doing since we
last met, and we talked some about politics and climate change, and then it
occurred to Sneezy to mention that this night’s feast just wouldn’t be the
same, now that Vixen was no longer with us.
“I can do without her,” Happy said.
Happy and Vixen never did get along. Happy’s hard to please, if you know what I
mean. He has a tendency to dislike even his best friends. And it’s true that
Vixen could be a stubborn woman when her mind was made up. Still, I always say
we should speak well of the dead, a line that gets a laugh whenever I use it
among friends.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Bashful
remarked. “I’ll miss her desserts. Vixen always brought yummy desserts to the
table. Remember that chocolate earthworm pie she prepared for us last year?”
“Oh, dear,” I said. “I forgot all
about dessert! What are going to do about our closing grace, our prayer of
thanks for dinner and for longevity? We’re supposed to say our thanks right after we’ve all
finished dessert. ‘O Lord Below Us, we thank you with all our pumping hearts
for every damned blessing you’ve given us, from our first bite to our last.’”
“It won’t be the same,” Sneezy
repeated. “I’m a chocoholic.”
“Me too,” Sleepy said. “Damn.”
The doorbell rang. “Our dinner entrée,”
I said. “I’ll get that.”
I stood up and walked to the front
door and opened it wide.
“Trick
or treat!”
There they stood, three of them:
Spiderman, Harry Potter, and…and Snow
White! How perfect was that? They all looked so well-fed and cheerful. They
each carried a paper bag, which they held out and shook before me, as if to
show me their haul so far.
“What do you have there?” I asked.
“Candy,” Spiderman answered.
“Candy bars, mostly,” Snow White
added.
Harry Potter said, “Chocolate candy
bars.”
“Come in, please!” I told them. “Treats
are in the living room, and I want you to meet my family. They’re going to love
your costumes.”
As the three children filed past me,
I turned and locked the front door and switched off the porch light. Then I
told the kids, “Follow me.” I led them into the parlor and said to my fellow
Dwarfs, “Look! Our entrée has arrived. And guess what! They’ve brought dessert!”
So dinner was a great success, and
when all the prayers were said, including the closing grace, Dopey stood, held
his mug of acorn tea up, and said, “Hail Doc! A toast to the host with the
most!”
They all cheered, and I confess I
wept with gratitude. My heart was as full as my belly.
§§§
Call for submissions: Your 99-Word
Stories
The
deadline for November’s 99-word story submissions is November 1. The stories
will appear on my blog post for November 12, and will stay posted for a week.
note: this 99-word story feature
is a game, not a contest. Obey the rules and I’ll include your story. I may
edit the story to make it stronger, and it’s understood that you will submit to
my editing willingly. That’s an unwritten rule.
Rules for the 99-word
story feature are as follows:
1. Your story must be 99
words long, exactly.
2. One story per writer,
per month.
3. The story must be a
story. That means it needs plot (something or somebody has to change),
characters, and conflict.
4. The story must be
inspired by the prompt I assign.
5. The deadline: the
first of the month. Stories will appear on this blog the second Saturday of the
month.
6. I will copy edit the
story. The author of the story retains all rights.
7.
Email me your story (in the body of your email, or as a Word attachment) to: jmd@danielpublishing.com
THIS
MONTH’S PROMPT FOR NEXT MONTH’S 99-WORD STORY: Write a story
inspired by the following sentence: I
don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.…
§§§
Calling
all published authors—
I try to feature a guest
author the third Saturday (and week following) of each month. If you’re
interested in posting an essay on my blog—it’s also a chance to promote a
published book—email me directly at jmd@danielpublishing.com.
§§§
Thank you for visiting.
Please drop by next week.
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