2014 Championship

Don Corcoran

2014 Champion


Don Corcoran

‘Whatcha’ writing?”

“You’re writing wrongs?”

“Oh, I see what you did there. Wait… ? Which ‘right?’”

“The Rite?”

“The very Sam one.”

“Don’t you mean ‘same?’”


“Who’s it to?”

“You know whom.”


Wren cringed. He hated being called that. He hissed between clenched teeth.

“Wrong you.”


“Tell it to the horse!”

“That’s not fair.”

“Sure it is. Payment for my long suffering.”

The beastly thing shut up for a moment and thought.

“When did you get so good at this game?”

Sheepishly, Wren glanced up.

“Last week.”

“Last week? When you went to the meet?”

“Don’t talk about her like that?”

“Like what?”

Sam was frustrated.


“Okay, so maybe I was.”

Yes, at the race.

“Where you went to get your fix?”

“My fix?”

A moment passed.

“Fix. Yes, my heroine.”

Sam rolled in the air, holding a belly gorged with flies, guppies, and perogies.

“So you went to the races and met the love of your life, your everything… .”

“Don’t say it.”

“Your whole.”

Wren plucked the cigar from between Sam’s lips and twisted the embers into his mottled flesh until it became a smoking brown stain. Sam screamed and zipped in loop-d-loops around the room. Rubbing the wound, Sam scowled at Wren.

“Okay, I deserved that one. So what happened?”

“That point when you thought it would be funny to trip me and send me sprawling into her, mustard and hot dogs first?”

“Hehe! Classic.”

But she was too fast. I ended up taking a header over the railing.

Sam winced.


“Yeah. I’m lucky I didn’t break my neck.”

“Dude, you wouldn’t have died or anything. That’s why I’m here.”

“Well after a two week stay in the hospital, I woke up with words doing somersaults in my head.”

“Dude! That’s so cool! A little spill and you’re the heir.”

“I’d rather the air. You couldn’t make me fly? You and your stupid word game.”

“I had nothing to do with it, hombre. This is the universe’s own special kind of chaos.”

“Well, now, I don’t need you.”

“Back rubs were always optional. So wait, you’re mad ’cause you think I gave you super powers?’

“No, Sam.”

“What then? We’ve been like bros since you were like this tall!”

Sam sank a few feet, hand flat before him, his wings beating furiously.

“And I fit in an acorn, for Oberon’s sake!”

Both considered his girth and realized a diet of woodland insects and Ding-Dongs may not have been the best choice. Wren sighed.

“What a waist.”

“Come on! That little stunt made your relationship. She spent the next two weeks nursing you to health.”

Wren finished the letter written on ancient parchment and penned in rare ink. He signed his name at the bottom – just as he had addressed it – and sealed the envelop with red wax.

“Wait! What’s-her-face isn’t replacing me, is she?”


“Her name – Di.”

“Oh shit!”


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