Monthly Archives: December 2012

Envelopes and Leaves

You, your mom, and I click-clacked along a railroad through the forest. Envelopes hung from branches in place of leaves, dappling the light, and here and there the autumn wind loosened one into a flutter. The train stopped, and an attendant in a red vest spoke: “Acropolis Station.” In fact, no station was to be found outside—only beech trees […]

Skinny Santa

With the soft silence of new-fallen snow outside, skinny Santa bats his eyes open from dreams of famine and poodles. It’s the big day, and he pinches at the folds of loose skin on his belly, once more doubting the safety of the strict seaweed and tofu diet that Mrs. Claus has held him to […]

Lucky Boy

The hunchbacked old woman prayed silently and intently in the pew ahead of me. Two hairs spiraled from a growth on her chin, but I could tell she had once been a beautiful woman—something about the steel in her eyes. I listened to her prayers in quiet shock. Not only could I hear her thoughts, […]

A Gift

­­Selwyn didn’t notice when the gift showed up in his hands. His feet were pounding the rubber of a treadmill track and his eyes were watching Ian Kissoff mouth the news from behind the anchor’s desk on a muted TV when the woman beside him in flower-print tights stepped off her elliptical machine. “Lovely gift!” she […]


After getting my feet wet in the world of blogging recently, I’ve decided to retitle my site. The new name is Wayward Wonderer: Weekly Micro Fiction by Thad Fowler, and to mark the occasion, this week I’m offering A Gift. Stay tuned for the new post coming shortly. 🙂 Wishing you well, Thad

Empty Pockets, or A Way of Happening on a Clown Mannequin or Wolf

Dread spread over Ned like a swarm of cockroaches. As he waited at the register for his medium drip coffee, he found in his pocket not his wallet but loose grains of sand, lint, and a single penny. “$2.25 please,” said the barista. Ned checked his other pockets. His cell phone, keys, and office ID […]