Original Short fiction: The True Story of Olde Old One Eldritch Confections as set down by Holden Finch 📚

If you like Lovecraft, candy, and short fiction, I found this while I was rooting around in the archives and am happy to share it with my micro.blog friends:

The True Story of Olde Old One Eldritch Confections as set down by Holden Finch

“Lest one think that the reduced circumstances of my childhood caused me to be raised in total ignorance of the sorts of dainties the more prosperous classes enjoy, I hasten to point out that I was no stranger to candies and sweets. My fellows at the school I had attended frequently arrived at the schoolyard with lunch pails containing all manner of little desserts and candies. Because my bookish and scholarly nature was known to many, it wasn’t uncommon for the children of prosperous bankers and clerks to pay me a nickel or two to ghostwrite their essays on history or other subjects they found tedious. And sometimes, if one of those apple-cheeked little plagiarists had spent a nickel meant for me on a toy or a lurid magazine filled with the scribblings of hack fantasists, I would take some sweet from his lunch pail in lieu of his squandered money.

“Suffice to say, then, that even if I had been raised in poverty by a shattered woman teetering on the brink of insanity, I knew many kinds of candy, and so it is not due to any ignorance on my part that as I put my fingers to the first morsel I was wholly unprepared for its strange characteristics and promptly dropped it back to the plate, pulling my hand back as if I had been stung. For the candy was warm in a way that belied the crisp autumnal cold that pervaded my bare room. And more hideous than its inexplicable warmth was the sense that it moved ever so slightly, as if detecting my intention to pop it in my mouth, and was feebly struggling against that end.

“On the plate, though, the pale, orange confection just sat there, looking not unlike a mundane marshmallow of the sort I had earned from many a ghost-written history essay. My stomach growled and I decided that any warmth or motion I had detected was the result of exhaustion and hunger playing tricks with my imagination and senses. I seized the bit of candy with more authority and quickly brought it to my mouth, telling myself that any sensation of living warmth or struggle was foolish hallucination.”

Mike Hall @pdxmph