Madisyn D. James

Sunny Anomaly

Tracie+L Mauriello

Lauryn Zimmerman

Kara S

C. S. Lytal

zeej qooj

Sam Becker

Banana Bob

Dawn Rasmussen

Her hands trembled as she took the reigns, knowing what it meant to leave. She tapped Lancelot with her heel and he left the open door of the stable. She covered her bald head with the child’s blanket and…

set off into the open field. The cool yet chilly breeze gently whipped across her young, pale face as the majestic animal trotted about. However, she had no control of her hands. She tried to keep a firm grip on those reigns. Lancelot was just a few trots away from the fence when

he came to an abrupt stop, bowing his head low. At first, she thought perhaps he was listening for something, so she listened along. That was when she noticed the chewing sounds and realized he had just found some tasty clovers. “Lancelot, we can’t get distracted!” She nudged him

and her hands trembled again. 

“It’s nothing,” she told Lancelot. She didn’t want to worry him but her own concerns were growing too. Perhaps it was time to get help for her condition. She would have to call the

witch doctor. The witch doctor would know what to do, at least she hoped. The treatments he provided were unusual to say the least. Lancelot and she agreed the witch doctor would be the most practical way to go. Otherwise, her condition could turn grave.

It didn't take them long to find the doctor's house. Everyone knew where the skull-decorated path was, after all. It was the time that was the challenge. The witch doctor didn't like people coming when he was asleep, and whenever he was eating who knows what. So they had to go at

English

precisely the right time. Not too early, the gleam in the skulls’ eyes still merely the burning embers of fires long forgot, nor too late, the flames bright, reaching out to lick unwary visitors. It would be tricky. But when your witch needed a doctor, you did what you had to do.

The big question now was: Was my witch just a witch or a witch doctor, and which doctor did my witch or witch doctor need? A doctor witch, a witch doctor or a witch doctor that specialised in witch doctors? I.e. either a witch doctor witch doctor, or a witch witch doctor doctor?.

Which Witch Doctor Doctored the Witch, Doctor?

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Once a year we traveled to the same camping spot. It was a place called Camp Wanakalagooga. Wide open space in the middle of nowhere. I liked it there, I felt like I belonged there, in nature...with the bugs and the snakes.

One year, I finally thought to myself, “Why do I come here just to camp? If I feel at home out here, perhaps it is my home, and maybe I should move out here.” The thought made me feel so warm inside, I knew it simply had to be the right choice.

But I had to make sure I had everything. The tent I was using now wouldn't be enough of a good permanent shelter. I needed the spring of life for all modern-born, civilized beings: Wifi. The router company had already refused my request to build an underground router so I had to

utilize my phone’s personal hotspot in the meantime, which was quite convenient. After maybe 23 minutes of watching videos of stupid people while holding my side, my phone vibrated on my lap and a notification popped up. I raised the phone up to my face. 2% battery life. Great.

I swiped to preview the notification, inadvertently calling the ambitious battery sensor's bluff. The screen briefly displayed it's backlit, near-death, pretend black but then quickly lapsed into proper, unlit, fuck you black. The magical device was now just an electronic corpse.

Without warning the phone burst into flame and fell to the floor. Instinctively I grabbed my burnt hand with the other. I heard of batteries exploding, but I would have expected it to be charging. From the hallway I heard…

the sound of my house phone ringing. I was sure I unplugged it years ago. I sprinted into the living room and sure enough, the phone was ringing.... unplugged. “How could this be?” I said to myself. “Am I hallucinating again?” My burnt hand then began to swell and throb.

I lifted the receiver. “It’s all a lie,” a voice said. There line went dead.

Madisyn D. James
@bubbadympz

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Madisyn D. James@bubbadympz

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