Magic, Mystery, a little Whisky, and a Cat

Friday Fictioneers–Residuals

Friday Fictioneer contribution for April the twoth.

Rochelle, at, posts the picture prompt on Wednesdays. The challenge is to write a 100-word story from it.

Theatrical superstitions and legends abound. I chose

copyright-Kent Bonham
copyright-Kent Bonham

Macbeth, of course, and hope this homage doesn’t seem cheeky to Shakespearean experts—of whose number I am not one. If you enjoy my Friday Fictioneer entries, take a minute to look at my A-Z Blogs.


The lights come up. My cue. My gauzy gown about me floats. My crimson fingers dip into the silver chalice and, though the water twins their hue, they are stained beyond redemption. My crime—dark offense—will not be washed away by petty gestures. Eternally, I trod the boards and with those on this stage, I share the curse, double-double, three times three. Miserable wretches, doomed by their own words, a pricking of the thumbs they sense, as I pass— no more. At curtain’s fall, I into the ether fly. When next the Scottish play’s afoot, I will be there.

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