“You’re sure that’s your wish?”

“Positive,” Claude said.

“You could actually sleep with her.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Claude said. “I would never cheat on Bridgette.”

The djinn shrugged and blew sparkling dust in Claude’s face.

Claude blinked and found himself in Vanessa’s bathroom. The shower was running.

Claude’s heart slammed into his ribs and he could barely breathe.

Vanessa stepped out of the tub, naked, wet and perfect. After drying herself, she sat on the toilet and snagged a book from the rack. Uh-Oh.

Then, Vanessa dug a finger into her nose and put Claude off voyeurism forever.

Author’s Note: I commented to my wife that I’d like to be invisible so I could spy on people. She said I’d like see a lot of nose-picking. I think she’s right.

Categories: Fiction, Ken MacGregor | No Comments »

“Go ahead. Really smack it,” Hades said. Hercules put power into his swing, and the golf ball sailed over the horizon.

“That’s another bogie for Herc,” said Ares. He was always trying to pick a fight.

“I hate you,” Hercules said to the god of the underworld.

“Everyone does,” Hades said with a smile.

“I don’t hate you,” Aphrodite said. When she spoke, the men stopped and stared.

“Oh, that makes me so happy,” Hades said without a trace of sincerity.

Dionysus took a huge swig from a flask.

“I don’t know why we bother,” he said. “Zeus always wins.”

Author’s Note: I think gods are pretty much omnipotent children and I like to poke fun at them.

Categories: Fiction, Ken MacGregor | No Comments »

The necromancer spent days preparing the spell, gathering the necessary components and the skeleton of course.

The skeleton was all that was left of the necromancer’s apprentice. The lazy, difficult lad that had no aptitude for sorcery. He was the necromancer’s nephew, and he only took the boy on as a favor.

He poured his magic into the bones, slicing open a much-scarred left arm to draw the sacrificial blood.

The skeleton rose and stood shaky, knock-kneed before the necromancer. The dark wizard told his creation to go and lay waste to his enemies.

The skeleton shook his skull, no.

Author’s Note: I like the idea of powerful evil wizards failing in small, pathetic ways.

Categories: Fiction, Ken MacGregor | No Comments »

Ben had been haunting me for days. The moment he died, his ghost appeared. The apparition wore Ben’s favorite shirt: the orange one with the ink-stain on the cuff. He was smiling.

My brother was always happy. Some people are impossible to depress.

I watched the undersize coffin lower into the ground. Mom tossed a handful of dirt; her eyes were red with constant tears.

Beside me, Ben began to fade, starting at the feet. As more dirt fell, more of Ben disappeared. Finally, like the Cheshire Cat, there was only his smile.

That faded, too and he was gone.

Author’s Note: I love phrases that have double-meanings.

Categories: Fiction, Ken MacGregor | No Comments »

Jack rushed to the bottom of the beanstalk, took the ax and cleaved the towering plant in two. The giant fell, landing on Jack’s house; thankfully, Jack and his mother were outside.

The golden-egg-laying hen was squashed flat. The harp was bent and several strings snapped.

In the rubble, Jack found gold coins and eggs; it was enough to rebuild.

The giantess leaned over the edge of the sky, wailing and keening in her grief and cursing Jack’s name as her husband stiffened and chilled on the grass.

Jack’s mother demanded he fix things. He left home while she slept.

Author’s Note: I always found the ‘happily ever after’ was hard to swallow in this story.

Categories: Fiction, Ken MacGregor | 1 Comment »

My wife is having an affair. Vicky stays out late and comes home glowing with celestial bliss. She tries to hide her grin, but cannot.

Following her, I see her meet him, walking hand on his arm; his ravens, black as pitch tag along at a discreet distance. My knuckles hurt gripping the steering wheel; my teeth crush against one another. He turns to me, his one eye gleaming with mischief and triumph. Of course he knows I’m there.

He’s only toying with her, dallying for his own divine amusement. I’ll be here when he’s gone. I love my wife.

Author’s Note: I sometimes worry my wife will meet a god and fall for his charms.

Categories: Fiction, Ken MacGregor | 1 Comment »

Gary pulled back his hood, exposing his bald head.

“Help you?” called the man from behind the counter. Gary nodded.

“I lost my hat,” Gary said.

“Got a magic tuque,” the man said. “It’s warm and it grows hair. Here.”

Gary put on the tuque. It grew quite warm and tight almost immediately. Gary took off the tuque and long, brown hair spilled out.

“I’ll take it,” Gary said, plopping the tuque on his fist to dig out his wallet.

“Don’t!” The man cried. But, it was too late. The hair flowed up Gary’s arm and covered him in seconds.

Author’s Note: The title popped into my head and made me chuckle.

Categories: Fiction, Ken MacGregor | 1 Comment »