Matchstick Souls

by Mari Ness


One by one, he bound the souls into the wooden stick figures, listening to the screams of each bound soul. Old souls, these: the wooden splinters caught and shattered their memories. He raised the fragile figures to their feet, feeling their hatred, their need for revenge.

"Your families await," he whispered, and handed them torches.

Requesting a Kiss

by Mari Ness


"Would you kiss me?" asked the frog.

"Not really," she admitted.

"I could turn into a prince," he wheedled.

"I seem to recall hearing that before," she said.

"But this time, I really mean it."

"Really?"

"Really."

"And the unprincely hopping into other beds?"

"Er."

"That is why I turned you back into a frog."