This week’s story. Enjoy!
Fennywompus: A Modern Fable
An unemployed man sat watching soap operas on his sofa. He heard a knock on his door and answered it. Standing about three feet tall on his doorstep was a magical stork. The magical stork’s name was Fennywompus, as his nametag indicated. He was decorated with rainbow feathers.
“I have come to grant thee three wishes,” Fennywompus roared. His beak was golden, his eyes wild, and their mightiness flashed in the sun.
“All right,” the man answered, feeling ashamed of the mess behind him. “I wish for a cleaner, bigger, more beautiful house.”
“You shall have the cleanest, biggest and most beautiful house that has graced this earth. Watch Fennywompus as he unleashes his powers!” Fennywompus spun madly, his shape distorted by the motion. The house burst into the air and whirled away tornado-like. The man felt the dirt pushing up beneath him. A mansion sprouted up and the earth hollered in the air. The man was confused atop his new, diamond roof that glimmered like the disco lights of gods. Fennywompus flew up to greet him, echoing his chuckle across many meadows and lands.
“How does thou like thy new abode?” he asked. “Come, I shall give you the tour!”
The man climbed atop Fennywompus’ back, clinging to a purple velvet vest the magic stork wore. Fennywompus descended to the entrance: a grand set of Dutch doors, made of emeralds and gilded with higher-quality emeralds.
There were several thousand rooms, all large, all unique, containing the most elaborate furniture known to man. Seven hundred pools, waterfalls and jacuzzis spread about the house, some pouring chocolate or soda, others pouring purified water flown from the highest mountain in the Alps. There were violinists in every bathroom, curtains spun from the most elite, pureblooded Malaysian silkworms, pianos with keys made from Einstein’s teeth and a dog that shit rubies.
“This is all wonderful,” the man said, “but I would like a wife to share this wealth with.”
“A wife! You shall have the finest wife ever made. Stand back and permit Fennywompus to perform his magic!”
A miniature violet hurricane gyrated over the carpeting, combusting into a confetti of glitter that disappeared to reveal the epitome of female perfection. She was wearing a nametag that said, “Jessifer”. Her hair was spun gold, piled atop a flawlessly proportioned head. Her eyes shone brighter than any jewels yet discovered on earth, and her skin was as soft and ripe as rare, endangered peaches.
“I’m your new wife, Jessifer,” she purred, in a velvety voice that gave the unemployed hero of our story goosebumps.
“Oh, wow,” he replied. He cleared his throat. “Ummm … Fennywompus, how about I make that last wish? Then Jessifer and I can be alone. I can’t wait to get to know you,” he turned, addressing his wife.
“Then wish away!” thundered Fennywompus.
“I wish I never had to work again,” the man said.
Fennywompus’ guffaw echoed across the land. “Done, my friend!” he shouted.
There was a moment of silence. The man, taking his wife’s hand, stared at the rainbow stork and tapped his foot.
“Well, thanks, Fennywompus, and best of luck. I appreciate everything.”
Fennywompus cackled. “Yes, my unemployed friend. You made some fine wishes. But you should have wished Fennywompus wouldn’t kill you! Wouldn’t zap you with his magical, tragical rays! Ha ha ha ha ha …”
The man was turned into pudding that splattered on the elaborate rugs. Fennywompus cleared his throat and shook his feathers, staring at the docile Jessifer who watched with a deadpan visage. “My name is Fennywompus,” he said, pointing to his nametag.
“Jessifer,” she answered, pointing to hers.
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Faith lives in Berkeley. Besides school and work, her time is spent reading, writing, playing music and watching cartoons and other silliness. Her poems and short fiction have been featured in more than twenty publications. Listen to her music on