June Stories at the Confabulator Cafe

Welcome back to the Cafe, reader. We hope you’ve enjoyed the stories the Confabulators have spun thus far. And we hope to continue to dazzle you.

This month, the prompt was a first line, last line. Confabulators were challenged to begin their story with “That escalated quickly” and end it with “only time will tell.”

Only one brave soul took on that challenge. Please visit us later this month to read Dianne’s story for this prompt:

Friday, June 14: “Career Day” by Dianne Williams


Lisa West and the Goat

Lisa West was used to receiving odd messages. Running a 24-hour bakery brought that kind of thing to her. Well, that and her moonlighting career as a spy. Not a detective. She was pretty sure you needed a license for that and she hated the imagery of teenage heroines hunting ghosts. She’d discovered last year that her hometown was crawling with spies, so what was one more joining the profession?

But lately the messages were getting weirder.

She’d checked into the motel 15 minutes ago when she found a package on the grimy bedspread in the room. It beeped at her and kept beeping until she tore it open to find out what she had.

She found a burner phone inside, of the ancient flip phone variety, and tipped it into her hand. It flashed a text message at her.

“Bring the money to the place where the wheat meets the light at sundown.”


B or G?

Wylie Brant

c/o The Province Hotel

Villa Armata

355 Hammond Lane

Palm Beach, FL 44380



“Jimmy Martins, what are you doing?”

I spun around, the envelope I’d been holding over the teakettle’s spout clutched in one hand. “Can you not sneak up like that?” I huffed.

“What were you doing?” My sister repeated.

“Gathering information.”

“By steaming open someone’s mail?”

“Who, me?”

She flashed me a disparaging look. “Why else would you give the mail a steam bath?”


May Stories at the Confabulator Cafe

Spring is in full swing, here, and summer is just around the corner. And summer means vacations. Which often means travel. Long road trips. Sight seeing. Cramped, cheap hotel rooms.

Have you ever wondered about what has happened in the hotel rooms you’ve stayed in before you were there? Or after?

This month, we’ve tasked the Confabulators to write about a specific situation. If you were to find an unopened letter in your room when you checked in, what would you do with it? Open it? Turn it in? Leave it alone? What if any one of those answers had unintended consequences?

Read this month and find out.

Here’s the May schedule:

Monday, May 15: “B or G?” by Isabel Nee
Monday, May 29: “Lisa West and the Goat” by Dianne Williams


Carnival of Farts

“Oh my god, Alli, I can’t believe you missed tonight, it was the best!”

Alli’s roommate Becca flung herself down on the couch. Alli didn’t even look up from their laptop. “I was busy.”

“Busy being boring. That paper isn’t due for like four whole days.”

Which meant Becca hadn’t touched it yet and would be begging them for their notes in three days. They winced in memory of Becca’s steady whine of just a peek, I only want to see your references from the last paper.

“I have to turn it in tomorrow since I won’t be in class on Monday.” Excitement thrummed in their veins. It was the Carnival of Farts this weekend. Except it wasn’t a carnival, not exactly. And it wasn’t about flatulence.

“You never skip!”

“Religious exemption,” Alli said. They’d booked their plane ticket months ago. It was their first overseas trip and it had taken months of saving every penny from their second job to save for it. But it was worth it. For the first time in their life, they would be surrounded by people with similar beliefs.

They would be at the Carnival of Farts.