The Candy Man: A Short Short Story

            He reached his hand to the bottom of the giant bag of Nerds, Gobstoppers, Butterfingers, and Crunch bars and wondered how it had been depleted so quickly. The bag proudly boasted that it contained over 350 pieces of candy.  He immediately realized he was asking questions he did not want the answer to.

            Who am I? Some old sage, he thought.

            He dug at the bottom of the bag, hoping for a Butterfinger, but he knew that he would not find his El Dorado. His city of gold had vanished days ago.

            He settled on a box of strawberry-flavored Nerds and two small packages of Gobstoppers when his fingers brushed an unknown object.

            Unknown, but the texture was familiar. He could feel smooth ridges and knew that he felt the crispety, crunchety, peanut buttery texture of a Butterfinger.

            He pulled the unwrapped bitesize chocolate bar out of the bag and quickly examined it. It was small, even for a bitesize candy and slightly deformed. But still looked delicious.

            No one’s going to know if you eat that chocolate bar, a voice spoke at the back of his mind, and why shouldn’t you. You work hard so why shouldn’t you get to have this candy.

            “I’d know,” he said.

            But it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done something like this, the voice replied.

            He shrugged in admittance.

            Remember that time you dropped that meatball? The voice reminded.

            “That was different.”

            It wasn’t all that different, the voice said.

            “It was different,” he said. “It was the last meatball.”

            I remember it having a dog hair on it, the voice said.

            “Yeah, no need to remind me,” he said, shame hanging in his voice. “I remember that.”

            He stood for a moment. Dropped the piece back the bottom of the bag and walked away. 

Hapless Romantic: A Short Story

            The shooting star danced across the sky, leaving a trail of wonder for just a second before disappearing.

            “I wish I was what Stephanie considered perfect,” Mark said as the shooting star vanished. He leaned against the tree he was having his pity party on and closed his eyes. Feeling sorry for himself was his forte, especially when it came to girls. He was a helpless romantic but worse than that he was a hapless romantic.

            He waited for another shooting star to gleam across the night but he lived in the city; he was lucky to have seen the one he just saw. He wondered what happened to the star when it fell out of his view. Did it vanish from existence? Or could he just no longer see it? Mark decided he was going to start paying more attention in science from here on out.

            Mark got to his feet and dusted off his butt with his hands. He was hoping to get an extra day out of the jeans he was wearing. He thought they showed off his ass and maybe Stephanie would notice but it was a pipe dream and he knew it was a pipe dream. Stephanie would never notice him. Maybe last year she would have but she grew up, got popular. He had friends but didn’t fit in the popular kids. He didn’t play football or any other sports. Other sports didn’t matter though, not in Topper, the only one that mattered was football. People in Topper would kill over high school ball. He had a poem published in a collection but that didn’t score points with the high school crowd unless they were looking for something to bully you about.

            He came in and brushed his teeth and did all the things he did before bed. Some don’t need to get mentioned here. He was thinking about the shooting star and the wish he made when he saw it glinting.

            “Jiminy Cricket’s a fucking liar.” He said then rolled over on his side and shut his eyes.

            He woke up a girl the next day. It had nothing to do with the wish he made, more to do with the city he made it in. Topper, Texas is a weird place where weird shit happens so often that weird shit becomes normal shit.

            He didn’t notice it right away. Not until he went to pee and ended up with a bit of a mess and a lot of explaining to do.

            He/She looked at his/her body. He/She was smoking hot. He/She examined his breast and got a phantom boner. Mark spun, whipping his/her long brunette hair as he did.

            “What the hell?” Mark stared at himself in the mirror trying to understand what was happening.

            “Mom!” He/She yelled as he marched out of the bathroom.

            His/Her mother was understanding of the situation. She picked up on it right away after Mark told her the story.

            “Mark, honey. Stephanie must be gay.”