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#211 Cozy Corner

You’ve probably noticed that cozy fiction has been on the rise for several years, and even more so post-pandemic. Cozy mysteries about grandparent sleuths, pets, food, bookshops, and villages have flourished, allowing people to dabble in suspense while still maintaining a sense of warmth, familiarity, and comfort. The same is beginning to happen in the fantasy genre (think of Travis Baldree’s Legends and Lattes, about an orc opening a coffee shop), so it’s clear that the appeal of wholesome, comforting fiction exceeds the mystery genre.


With that in mind, let’s get comfy — as much as summertime allows! Put on your imaginary cardigans and let’s see what this week’s homely prompts will yield.

🥇 Winner

Do Flamethrowers Belong In The Library?

Winner of Weekly Contest #211 🏆

We lose people all the time. It’s just the nature of the job. What can you expect from a place full of nooks and crannies people intentionally go to get lost in? I usually don’t worry when I don’t see someone for a while, but when it’s been days since someone’s checked out, it’s usually a sign that I need to step in. I’m not doing this alone, thankfully. No Librarian is ever truly alone, are they? I have help from the Watchers and Listeners of the shelves. Thanks to them, it usually doesn’t take long to get the scent, if you know what I m...

224 likes 188 comments 188
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⭐️ Shortlisted

Donuts Do Not Die

Shortlisted for Contest #211 ⭐️

Donuts Do Not DieThe crotchety old guy settled back down in his over-sized crusty stuffed arm chair pushing the ottoman slightly to the side for now. He jarred another cigarette out of its pack and picked it out with his teeth, flipped his Bic to light it and clicked to a 24-four-hour news station on the large box TV balanced on top of the flickering gas fake fireplace used to heat the enclosed porch. The cold chill still rattled the three walls of windows he peered through watching for them.He knew they were coming. The waning sun was sneak...

56 likes 93 comments 93
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Storm in a Teacup

Shortlisted for Contest #211 ⭐️

From a one-room cabin in the cliffs overlooking the port of Pettra, an old woman watched through a spyglass as a messenger boy raced down the stairs to the docks, letter in hand. She wore her hair short, the ends curling at her temples instead of the long braid traditional to wives and widows. The only ornamentation she donned was a compass hanging on a fine golden chain around her neck. Though her age was clear from the deep lines on her face, wrinkles drawn by a lifetime under the sun, she stood straight and tall. Her only concession ...

25 likes 7 comments 7
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Tortoise Approved

Shortlisted for Contest #211 ⭐️

I always imagined that, by the time I was thirty-five, I’d be married with kids and living in the suburbs. I could see it so clearly: on a cloudless summer day, my husband would be working on his honey-do list with a tool belt strapped snugly around his waist. I’d be wearing a floppy sun hat while planting flowers in my garden, and the kids would be running around in the backyard, laughing as they kicked a soccer ball. It was a dream that was so vivid, I could feel the sun on my back, smell the freshly cut grass, hear the thump of the soccer...

21 likes 8 comments 8
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what remains forgotten

Shortlisted for Contest #211 ⭐️

The fire crackled a tune that seemed altogether mocking in its cheeriness, the dancing flames darting up to greedily gobble up the next letter that was tossed to it, setting the shadows to join this strange ebb and flow of flickering light. Yet another letter was tossed into the fireplace, curling first at the corners before burning away under the icy gaze of the woman watching this. She kneeled before the fire, skirts billowing around her like a discarded flower, chestnut hair flowing free about her shoulders, the closest to an emotion reac...

21 likes 7 comments 7
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Forgive Me

Shortlisted for Contest #211 ⭐️

Forgive Me. “I’m sorry, pet… but we need to get a move on.” Imelda attempted a smile, flinching through clenched teeth, trying not to resist Shirley’s determined effort to wield the rough towel at speed over her fragile skin. “There we are, pet. Now let’s get you dressed and into your chair before they send a search party.” Imelda loved the sound of Shirley’s home cooked voice. It reminded her of her grandmother’s kitchen; the aroma of cinnamon laced apple cake straight from the oven in a world not yet defiled.  Ablutions over, Im...

20 likes 15 comments 15
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This week's prompts

Write a story starring an octogenarian who’s more than meets the eye.

– 66 stories

Begin your story with a librarian searching for something.

– 70 stories

Write a story involving a friendship with an adorable animal.

– 50 stories

Set or begin your story in a room lit by the flickering flames of the fireplace.

– 69 stories

End your story with two characters reconciling.

– 47 stories

Stories

Do Flamethrowers Belong In The Library?

Winner of Weekly Contest #211 🏆

We lose people all the time. It’s just the nature of the job. What can you expect from a place full of nooks and crannies people intentionally go to get lost in? I usually don’t worry when I don’t see someone for a while, but when it’s been days since someone’s checked out, it’s usually a sign that I need to step in. I’m not doing this alone, thankfully. No Librarian is ever truly alone, are they? I have help from the Watchers and Listeners of the shelves. Thanks to them, it usually doesn’t take long to get the scent, if you know what I m...

224 likes 188 comments 188
Read story

Donuts Do Not Die

Shortlisted for Contest #211 ⭐️

Donuts Do Not DieThe crotchety old guy settled back down in his over-sized crusty stuffed arm chair pushing the ottoman slightly to the side for now. He jarred another cigarette out of its pack and picked it out with his teeth, flipped his Bic to light it and clicked to a 24-four-hour news station on the large box TV balanced on top of the flickering gas fake fireplace used to heat the enclosed porch. The cold chill still rattled the three walls of windows he peered through watching for them.He knew they were coming. The waning sun was sneak...

56 likes 93 comments 93
Read story

Thirteen Roses

Weekly Contest #211

The bar was dark, as a bar should be. That didn’t bother John. In fact, it was one of the reasons he had stopped by for a drink.The last four years had all made sense to him. Boy met girl. Boy fell in love. Happily ever after. It had been a fairy tale to be sure, until tonight. She wanted roses at their wedding, yet his mom wanted lilies. If you really want to make a bride-to-be angry a week before her big day, try changing one of the major decisions at the last moment to please your mother.John learned that the hard way. Somehow,...

50 likes 27 comments 27
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The Miracle of the Damaged Jesus

Weekly Contest #211

Marilyn and Beatrice arrived at work early, as usual. Beatrice opened the door and held it open for Marilyn, as usual. The ladies took off their coats and put on their sweaters, as usual. They started re-stocking the books that had been checked in the evening before, as usual.The body of the head librarian lay in the Historical Fiction aisle, her lifeless eyes and bluish tint signifying that she was well and truly dead.Marilyn wiped her glasses, the grim expression on her face softened somewhat by the absence of eyewear. When she spoke, the ...

47 likes 57 comments 57
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Warren and Peace

Weekly Contest #211

TW: Suggestion of child abduction/murder.“Darling, I’m home! Sorry, I took so long. I picked up some veal steaks for dinner and had a wander around that flea market in town. You’ll never guess what I found…”Sitting in an armchair, close to the fire, working on a blanket she was crocheting for her granddaughter’s pending new arrival, Bethany Peace sighed, dropping her needles into her lap as her husband’s breathless words raced down the hall.“Let me guess, dear,” she called back, removing her spectacles and pinching her nose. “Something musty...

36 likes 40 comments 40
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Zoof

Weekly Contest #211

Two things happened last week: my dog Brodie died and I met a little green alien named Pterodactyl. I called him Terry.           I was sitting on my swing in the backyard, not swinging just sitting, when a trail of smoke zoomed across the sky like a comet. I sat up straight to see what it was. It was getting closer, heading straight towards me. I heard a noise. It started soft then got louder, a high-pitch whistle. Like the letter ‘e’. “Eeeeeeeeee!” A yellow ring around the saucer and flames glow...

35 likes 28 comments 28
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Bricks Enough to Build a House With

Weekly Contest #211

George Melcamp poured himself another finger or three of whisky, as his fireplace crackled with a warm orange glow, safe from the cold night outside, safe from another coastal rain, safe from the impossible demands of the world. Beside his recliner stood a small table, and upon it lay his memories – favourite issues of the Port Calvin Tribune. Each bearing a heartwarming headline: ‘George Helps Little Sandra Harrison Down From Tree’, ‘Constable Delivers Food And Fuel To Stranded Boaters,’ ‘Melcamp Thwarts Raccoons In Case Of Missing Seniors ...

30 likes 27 comments 27
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Field Trip Love Story

Weekly Contest #211

My class is going on our very first real life, big boy field trip. Mama tucked me in real tight for sleep, but when I closed my eyes all I could see were dinosaurs around me. So I opened them. I slowly untucked my real tight blankies. I climbed out of bed, feeling suddenly cold in the dark. Mama turned on my night light and I use its green glow to find my way to my book case. Mama and Daddy used to read one story to me together before bed. I’m the librarian ‘cause I always pick the book.But now….now it’s just Mama or Daddy at night. ‘Cause n...

29 likes 14 comments 14
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Life by Numbers

Weekly Contest #211

Arthur narrowed his eyes and studied his moustache in the bathroom mirror; a cut-throat razor in one hand and trimming scissors in the other, poised and ready for battle. He’d maintained a pencil-thin moustache throughout his career in the Welsh Guards; from humble squaddie to regimental sergeant major; it was his trademark. Today it looked immaculate, as always, perched three-eighths of an inch below his nose and stretched across his upper lip like a fox moth caterpillar with rigor mortis.#There was no doubt Arthur was a strict di...

28 likes 23 comments 23
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For Grandma

Weekly Contest #211

A fire crackled in the hearth as snow fell in flurries outside. Melanie sat in her easy chair nearby and rocked while listening to an old sermon tape. The sermon was on the Fatherhood of God, an attribute she struggled to find relatable. As she listened with her Bible open on her lap, the back door flew open to little Simon standing in the cold. He wore a blue stocking cap with a white ball on top and white tassels hanging from the ear flaps. After taking his damp coat and shoes off by the door, he came into the living room to warm himself u...

27 likes 34 comments 34
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Storm in a Teacup

Shortlisted for Contest #211 ⭐️

From a one-room cabin in the cliffs overlooking the port of Pettra, an old woman watched through a spyglass as a messenger boy raced down the stairs to the docks, letter in hand. She wore her hair short, the ends curling at her temples instead of the long braid traditional to wives and widows. The only ornamentation she donned was a compass hanging on a fine golden chain around her neck. Though her age was clear from the deep lines on her face, wrinkles drawn by a lifetime under the sun, she stood straight and tall. Her only concession ...

25 likes 7 comments 7
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Christmas in July

Weekly Contest #211

Althea woke up and remembered it was Christmas. She pushed off the blankets that were feeling exceedingly heavier with each passing morning, and placed her feet down on the warm, wooden floors. “Warm floors,” she said to herself, “I’ll never get over warm floors.” When she was a little girl, there were things promised from the future and things that couldn’t even be imagined. Althea was still waiting on the things promised, but the unimaginable had arrived time and again, and each time, she couldn’t believe how much energy people expen...

25 likes 20 comments 20
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The Librarian

Weekly Contest #211

“I need to print something from my phone,” the nervous person in front of me stated. I smiled. I always smile, no matter how many times a day I hear this request. “No problem,” I say, and hand them our printout of instructions for mobile printing. They take it without a word, and I say, “If you need any help, feel free to come back. The printer is right here in front of us, sometimes it can take ten minutes or so to go through, and the machine only takes coins, ones, and fives. No cards.” They nod and wander off. The person behind them saunt...

23 likes 20 comments 20
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Requiem For The Majordomo

Weekly Contest #211

Frankie O’Dowd fidgeted with his tight clerical collar, as he warmed himself in front of the drawing room fireplace. Being the only single person in the room, O’Dowd struck a lonely but serious figure among the evening’s soiree of family dinner guests.  Averting his gaze from the crackling and glowing embers, O’Dowd surveyed the spacious surroundings. For a large room, the fireplace seemed an inadequate size to be an efficient heater; however, not one of the several guests in the room complained about the cold air forcefully trying to b...

22 likes 23 comments 23
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The Best Way to Not Be Loved Back

Weekly Contest #211

“Yet but three come one more. Two of both kinds make up four. Ere she comes curst and sad. Cupid is a knavish lad. Thus to make poor females mad.” --A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Shakespeare * * * Marissa was a girl who loved a boy who didn’t love her back. At twenty-four she had already found five different ways to not be loved back. Of course, there was one way she liked the best. That was the way she loved Brian Murphy. These were Marissa’s methods, in the order she stumbled on them, and in the order she used them on Brian. ...

22 likes 11 comments 11
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