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Cast of Wonders 709: The Last Halloween, The Halloweens After

Show Notes

Image by Майя Щедрина from Pixabay


The Last Halloween, The Halloweens After

by Daniel Roop

The COVID Halloween of 2020 had been the saddest, weirdest Halloween of my life. Every year prior to the virus, the streets of our neighborhood had been packed sardine-tight with face-painted toddlers, plastic-masked elementary-aged goblins, and harried, hustling parents bumping into one another, apologizing in a huff, weaving through the crowds to keep up with their candy-crazed children.

But the COVID year had been different, with less than half the people out, and everyone keeping their distance. Mrs. Jenkins, who always gave out full-size candy bars, wouldn’t let the virus ruin her tradition, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She’d had her husband construct a long, makeshift chute from their upstairs bedroom window to the end of the driveway. Kids would line up, Mrs. Jenkins yelling at them to stay six feet apart, their bags stretched open at the red plastic slide’s end while she’d sent Twix and Snickers tumbling down. Mr. Pittman, 50 years old at least, white, and balding, had donned a Lakers jersey and stood on his front porch. He’d made kids stand near his mailbox, while he’d tried to shoot Twizzlers and Whoppers into their bag, yelling, “Kobe!” before each inevitable miss. As they’d picked up their dented candy, he’d yelled, “Good hustle! Way to rebound!”

It had been a surreal night, but I remember it fondly, since that was the last year my older sister Quinn took me trick-or-treating. I was eleven, she was seventeen, and she took me only because my dad had insisted. Mom was in the hospital, no visitors allowed thanks to the virus, and Dad, while determined I wouldn’t miss the holiday, was beyond busy with his plumbing business and keeping the house running. So, Quinn drew the short straw, which she was gracious enough to remind me of only a few times that night. I dressed up as Rey, and despite Quinn’s occasional grumbling, she did an amazing job fixing me up with that impossible Jakku hairstyle. I was Rey, and Quinn was, in her words, “Rose’s put-upon sister who’s too cool, and too busy, and too mature, to dress the hell up for Skittles.” (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 703: Your Magic School Admittance Letter Never Arrives

Show Notes

Image by Mystic Art Design from Pixabay


Your Magic School Admittance Letter Never Arrives

by Maya Prasad

SPRING

The admittance letters to the various magical universities have been rolling in, and your friends are celebrating. But yours never arrives. Your parents are Very Disappointed.

“It’s not about talent,” your mother insists. “You simply don’t apply yourself.”

“Perhaps if you spent less time playing hoverball and goofing off with your friends,” your father says, “you could have taken a harder course load. You could have taken that MTAN practice class. Well, I suppose you can apply again next year.”

Next year, indeed. When your younger sister will probably show you up with scads of acceptances.

You nod meekly, not mentioning the hours you spent alone in your room with your wand after hoverball practice and on weekends. In truth, your purported laziness is less humiliating than admitting you never possessed enough magic in the first place. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 698: The Green Man’s Guest


The Green Man’s Guest

by Juliet E. McKenna

Trees die, like every living thing. Left to their own devices, they’ll gradually succumb to old age after decades or even centuries. If they’re not so lucky, a storm or a nearby tree toppled by strong winds can bring them crashing down. These days, if they’re really unlucky, some spreading blight can make felling them essential.

However it happens, whoever’s in charge of that back garden or public park or private woodland faces the same question. How do we get the stump out? What do we do about the hole? Even a smallish tree has a sizeable root ball.

Or… how about doing something else? I don’t know who came up with the idea of turning tree stumps into sculptures instead of grubbing them out, but as soon as I came across it, I wanted to give it a try. I did a load of research online and watched a lot of videos. I bought some specialist power tools and taught myself to use them on scrap timber from various projects. I’ve been taking care of the estate’s woods at Blithehurst Manor for the past few years, so I reckoned I’d get my chance sooner or later. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 697: Little Wonders 52 – Modern Myths


Jars and Bags and Boxes

by Rachel Gutin

When Dora asks if we can swap carry-on bags, I almost refuse. I know her history with jars and bags and boxes. “What are you hiding this time?”

She flashes me an innocent smile, flaunting her perfect, adorable dimples. “Nothing against the rules. I promise! It’s just… they always stop me for extra screening. You, they’ll let right through.”

My instincts are shrieking at me to say no, but when I lost my job last month, Dora was the only one who stepped in to support me. She planned this trip, and even paid for my ticket, just so I’d have something to look forward to. No one else stepped up like that. Not my former colleagues. Certainly not my family. Dora’s friendship is all I have left. I can’t afford to lose it.

So when she catches my gaze with those puppy-dog eyes, there’s only one answer I can give her. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 687: Little Wonders 50 – Quest Tropes

Show Notes

The Last Quest of Corbin the Coward was originally published in Factor Four Magazine, June 2022.


Incite

by Lisa Para

I’m sure of it. The universe thinks I’m destined to become a Main Character.

No way it’s because of my pink hair? But the day after I dyed it from my normal shiny black was when things started to get weird.

My public high school suddenly instituted school uniforms. When I walked in wearing my pleated skirt, a statistically unlikely number of boys got gushing nosebleeds and asked me to join their eclectic clubs. Um, no thank you.

The next afternoon, I had an honest-to-goodness meet-cute with a guy outside the library. I was so absorbed in my book I tripped on the water fountain’s edge. He snatched my novel from the air and folded me into his arms to steady me, but dropped his book in the water in the process. We laughed and our gazes met and it was like time stood still, with pink roses and shiny bubbles rising all around us.

Naturally, I punched him in the face and ran away before he could get the right idea. (Continue Reading…)

sepia image of a bear and a woman

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Cast of Wonders 682: The Bear Wife


The Bear Wife

by Catherine George

The bear wife took the cub to mommy and me yoga. She didn’t look much like a bear without her fur, but somehow the other mothers seemed to sense it; when she came in carrying the cub they shifted away, drifting on their yoga mats closer to the windows, to each other. She was left alone in the middle like a stone dropped into a lake, each woman a wave rippling outward. In tree pose she was a lightning-struck pine at the center of a clearing.

It must be something primal, she thought, lifting the cub up in a sun salutation. A smell, maybe, or a musk that hadn’t gone away when the fur came off (worried now, she sniffed at her armpit as she twisted into warrior pose, but she smelled nothing but the plastic roses of her deodorant). Anyway, she didn’t blame them for staying away. The bear was still in there, just below the skin; if any of them threatened the cub she’d tear the heart from their chest.

As the mothers eased into downward dog — a ring of A-frame cabins, each sheltering a baby — the weathered blonde yoga teacher approached her mat and placed a gentle hand on the bear wife’s back, correcting her posture. “Like this,” she said. “Keep your back flat.” The hand pulled away, a bird taking flight, then settled again, on the hunch of her neck. “Focus on pulling the shoulder blades together behind you.”

The bear wife didn’t bother to tell her the hunch would never go away. No amount of focusing on her shoulder blades would remove the grizzly in her. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 681: Little Wonders 48 – Coping Mechanisms

Show Notes

Episode art adapted from an image by Hello Cdd20 from Pixabay


A Chest Full of Storm Clouds

by Elisabeth Ring

It’s Philip’s text that finally does it.

“Happy birthday!” it says. Just those two words. Not, “Happy birthday! I miss you!” Not, “Happy birthday! I’m sorry!” Not, “I was wrong. I love you. Please take me back.”

Happy. Birthday. Exclamation mark.

As if the long, emotionally fraught blocks of text above it, mostly from me, and un-responded to by him, don’t exist. As if he hadn’t broken my heart in a million pieces even before he left. As if we’re the kind of friends you remember to text on their birthday but not well enough to come up with anything more creative than just “Happy birthday!”

Reading that text, I feel something break loose deep inside. I maybe haven’t been handling the breakup well to begin with, plus work has been extra tough lately and I’m going to have to juggle credit cards to pay for everything this month. This text just unleashes everything I’ve been keeping locked up and I know I need to get to a storm chamber or I might actually explode. (Continue Reading…)

colourful rabbit silhouettes on a red background

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Cast of Wonders 680: Firecrackers on 28 Mott Street


Firecrackers on 28 Mott Street

by Angela Liu

The children wield firecrackers as they enter the old shop on Mott Street. Copper wind bells chime as the door closes behind them.
Inside, velvet curtains block all natural light. Here the glow of porcelain lamps and red paper lanterns light the space. Glass display cases line the walls like a dusty museum: enchanted ivory boxes carved with intricate beasts, voice-altering fox masks, curse paper, flutes for conjuring love songs. Behind the unmanned register, a grinning cat amulet dangles on the wall alongside framed photos of the neighborhood’s most decorated magicians and standing next to each of them, in her signature tiger-print vest, is Miss Lin, the proud owner of 28 Mott Street, the last General Alchemy Shop in Chinatown.

Dino’s the first one to walk up to the display cases.

“Is that it?” he says, pressing a finger to the glass.

Sally swats his hand away. “You know Miss Lin likes to keep everything spotless.” (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 673: Chloe Chew and the Museum of Undead Art (Staff Picks 2025)


Chloe Chew and the Museum of Undead Art

by Olivia B. Chan

In Chloe Chew’s suffocating hometown, there’s only one place fit for necromancy: the parking lot outside Em’s motel, where summer heat wavers above cracked pavement, blurring the darkness on the horizon. Forest fires have driven away all the tourists, so Chloe’s safe to prepare her resurrection materials between the yellow lines.

She presses her hands to the torn-up canvas as it flaps in the wind off the highway, Asperthbell’s skyline rippling in its peeling acrylic. Her victim is a painting she found in the back of Miss Plent’s classroom, wedged between old answer keys, entirely forgotten. Perfect for a resurrection. She recognizes Asperthbell’s gas station in its streaks of red, but besides that the painting’s portrayal of her hometown is unrecognizable—no ash. No smoke.

The painting’s ghost trembles in her hands. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 672: Feeding Spirits (Staff Picks 2025)


Feeding Spirits

by Emmi Khor

What does one feed a hungry ancestor? Fish and chips, chicken parmi, or steak pie didn’t seem like something my recently deceased Popo would enjoy.

I’d just returned from my backyard swamp with a full trash bag, when the phone rang. The call bounced with around-the-world echoes and I’d barely said hello, when Ma started in on her visit to the medium.

“I asked your Popo if she was comfortable. Ai yah, Li-Li,” cried Ma, “she scolded me! She said: Twenty years my granddaughter doesn’t come home. I go all the way to Australia to visit and she doesn’t even offer me a meal.” The click of Ma’s tongue was like a slap. “You should respect your ancestors!” (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 668: The Sundress and the Serpent


The Sundress and the Serpent

by Craig Church

Tears burn my eyes as I crack open the sliding door and slip out the back of the house. I pull up the hood of my jacket and cinch it tight against the heavy, damp cold, looking over my shoulder to where the flickering light of the television illuminates Dad’s beer gut, rising and falling in time with his guttural snoring. At least one of us can sleep.

The sun will be up before long. I need to get a move on.

I know the path by heart after making this trek so many times, so the soupy morning fog doesn’t deter me. I stroll past the dark, uninhabited vacation homes dotting the shoreline and recall how indignant I was when Dad moved us into a cramped mobile home along this remote stretch of Oregon’s coast. He’d just wanted to run away after Mom died, and didn’t give a second thought to uprooting his teenage daughter. At the time I’d hated him for it.

Now, maybe not so much. (Continue Reading…)

green-toned image of a bayou

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Cast of Wonders 653: Life and Death and Love in the Bayou


Life and Death and Love in the Bayou

by Stephannie Tallent

It was the February the rain fell so warm and hard the bayous swamped over old man Rochambeau’s gator curing shack and the whole parish smelled like graveyard mold and sour-smelling gator crap, even the houses built up on stilts above the high-water line, that I decided to help my mama once and for all. No matter the cost to my soul.

’Bout that shed . . . I knew old man Rochambeau would just hit up my mama to use the ham hut for his haul, and she’d say yes, so I didn’t feel too bad. Not for him, anyway.

Felt bad for my mama, who’d be stuck bumping up against log- shaped hunks of gator meat while she seasoned and cured the hogs. Touch one of those logs of meat, and it’s like the Spanish moss is dragging against the back of your neck, like the spirit of the gator is still there and pissed off and just waiting to chomp on you and roll you.

Those spirits are truly there, lurking to garner just a bit of power, enough to touch the living world. (Continue Reading…)