Largely Unseen, Short Fiction

That lady just told us to “git”.

I don’t know. Maybe.

So are you still chasing your imaginary butterfly?

She’s a pterodactyl and she ain’t imaginary. Her name is Pan.

That old goat thinks you got your head slammed in a screen door. Very sick inside you. I shouldn’t bother being friends with you.

No she don’t Matty.

Yeah, so why’d she run us off so?

Pan wanted to play with her dragon.

There ain’t no dragons.

Shush, they gots good ears, you know, and big egos.

Matty turned and peered back toward the lady. A cloud of fine yellow hued dust followed the lady toward the hills.

He followed Nyana into the great stone house called Juniper Hall.

You brought Pan in with you, right?

Yes always with me.

She liked Matty’s question and the candle light of the great room. Matty preferred the concealing darkness everywhere.


c. Lemuel

26 June 2018

Short Fiction

At the Sea Shore

“You told me you would help me forget, to get over the pain. Why are we at the sea shore? Why?”

This is the beach where forgotten insults go. Look there, the waves are bringing more.

“You think coming here will help me? How?”

If anyone casts insults at you do not pay heed to them. The insults wash up here. These dunes are new but tall, full of forgotten insults.

“I think I get it. We should leave. This place gives me the creeps.”

c. Lemuel

02 June 2018

Short Fiction

Two Ways One Choice

Two Ways One Choice


Joachim, thank you for your question: I say the people you encounter will always try to infect you with the choice between their own way, or the way of their enemies.


How you live, what you are deep down, like, the most central part of yourself that is the truest you.

The dude thinks a little in silence. Water drips from the cave roof into invisible pools on the floor.

You want to be a Werewolf, that’s fine. Vampires won’t like that, and, that’s cool too, given the choices.

“I don’t know which I want to be.”

When given the choices, like becoming a Werewolf or turning Vampire be Batman. Always be Batman.


© Lemuel

17 May 2018

Daily Prompt


Robot Camp

Robot Camp


“We have a problem.”



This is camp. There’s supposed to be a few problems.”

“Right, well yeah. That explains the sumptuous accommodations, snazzy attire, and my enviable salary.”

Jürgen, do you hear laughter? I don’t hear laughter.”

“Is that because you’re deaf to my most def comedy?”

No tricky-tricks Mr. Robotics smarty-pants.

“It’s actually on my diploma—smarty-pants.”

So, what’s the problem?

“Robot bullies are the worst, well, robot bullies are the second worst.”

Reboot, re-program, run some diagnostic-thingy, just sort it out.

“Check. No effect.”

Try turning them off-off-and-back-on-again?

“Yeah, seriously. These are Robots chief not your PC or some game console.”

There, I’m tapped-out, you sort it. Had enough managerial support for one day?

“Zing, I have, and I have. Some Oppenheimer alters my fixes and re-introduces depraved yet elegant Robot bugs that replicate explosively.”

Who? Suspects?


My kid? Never!

“Ole Napalm is in the hut just now cooking up a real tasty bully-protocol to ensure the scheduled food fight tonight in the café will be brutal with baked halibut and wicked tuna.

Can you prove this accusation?

“I mean I’m not Sherlock but I do have the smarty-pants certificate with 3-D stickers. The culprit is on CCTV. It’s confirmed. I have witnesses.”


“This is Robot Camp, chief.”

The Chief was a little bit proud of Napalm for showing some impressively disruptive ingenuity. He was more than a little frightened of her.

© Lemuel

15 May 2018

Daily Prompt, Second-helping

Short Fiction


The Core Curriculum



The Core Curriculum


Oscar liked new things especially since his re-introduction to Earth was going so well, this time.

Star fruit, mango, and papaya were delightful. Sometimes he plunged in and devoured an entire section of melons.

Have you tried one of these? They’re called bananas on this planet.

“Yes, I had one. It’s all core though. Not a favorite of mine, still.”

So noted.

Oscar bench-pressed a crate of apples over his mouth, “Down the hatch.”

Be less conspicuous, Oscar. I don’t want to give you a failing mark. Never forget where you come from.”

“But we don’t end our sentences with prepositions.”

Rule one: do not tick-off the testy test-bot, even once.

Oscar’s home planet is cold, rock-covered, and the vacuum pools are deadly.


© Lemuel

13 May 2018

Fictitiious Fiction

Daily Prompt