I get home from work. My dog leaps into my arms and I bask in his unconditional love. I think, Dogs are great, but I’m glad I’m a superior animal.
I sit and flip on the TV: racism, rioting, and Tiger King.
I look back at my dog.
Joshua Addison resides in the foothills of Appalachia where he attempts to write historical fiction. Occasionally between bouts of writer’s block he attempts to put together something that resembles a micro-fiction.
On the street, strangers quickly glance away. At the mirror, the ravaged face smiles, because the mass of angry red splotches says the chemo attack, the destroyer, is working. Hurt vanity—and it is hurt, no question—has lost its hallowed standing to the incomparable treasure of a longer life.
Marilyn McFarlane is on hold from travel writing and takes pleasure in writing and reading the gems in fifty-word stories. She’s the author of Sacred Stories: Wisdom From World Religions, for children, and The Healthy Seniors Cookbook, for any age.
At night, her mother put her to bed by telling her stories of cotton candy clouds and a winged unicorn named Percival. She dreamed she was flying on Percival, occasionally trotting along various rainbows. Heaven couldn’t be that far away, she figured. She could sense her father waving to her.
Ran Walker is the author of 21 books, the most recent of which is CAN I KICK IT?: Sneaker Microfiction and Poetry. He lives in Virginia with his wife and daughter.
It is always evening in my room. One wall has a painting, the winter cove, water now grey blue, cliffs dominant. Black ideograms; strong cursive brush strokes; the characters telling a story I don’t need to understand.
I go there as they lock down my radiotherapy mask again.
Helen is an experimental Artist and Writer based in South Wales, U.K.
People had stopped coming to see Elsa. She couldn’t imagine why.
This new home had even less space and light than before.
Then the van stopped moving. Blue sky and the smell of savanna burst through the open door.
“Just hope you still remember how to hunt,” said her zookeeper.
Gaining a Masters degree from University of South Wales in Scriptwriting, storyteller Peter Gaskell’s screenplay ‘Pigs in Muck’ featured in the Lockdown Monologue Film Festival recently. His poems have been published in the Atlanta Review and Places of Poetry as well as reviews of theatre, books, film, and concerts in Wales Arts Review. As a commissioned ghost writer his work as a novelist has been published while he is currently seeking an agent for his own novel ‘Shaman’s Blues’.
The explorers from Earth christened the planet ‘Atlantis’, as its whole surface was covered in water. Fleeing from a world destroyed by mankind’s foolishness, they were overjoyed to find a habitable planet. The giant ship landed on the world-spanning ocean and disgorged its jubilant crew.
The Dolphins were finally home.
Bill lives in Aberdeen, Scotland. Follow his self-absorbed ramblings at northeastnotesblog.wordpress.com.
I would only take my mask off for her.
The fresh air is incredible, at odds with my recycled sickness. She reaches for my hand; I withdraw like I’ve been conditioned to. I give in. Her face is warm and flushed, perfect, just how I remember. Mine is unevenly unshaven.
Jonathan H. Smith (@JHSmithMD) is a physician and author living in Arizona.
Night cracks. Night pops. Night strobes with unnatural hues.
As I light another, I hear the dog inside whine and thump her head trying to squeeze under the couch.
My son says with everything going on in the world, this feels premature.
“Shut up,” I growl, “and let me celebrate.”
Graham Robert Scott’s stories have appeared in Barrelhouse, Nature, and Pulp Literature.
The story of the week for June 29 to July 3 is…
Cracked Lives by Yash Seyedbagheri
Eating Year-Old Frozen Wedding Cake by Bob Thurber
The convert secured the offering. “Shouldn’t we be doing this during a lunar eclipse instead?”
The priest pulled a dagger from his robe. “We worship shadows caused by the moon, not the moon itself.”
“I’m not sure that’ll stop people from calling you ‘lunatics,'” muttered the woman on the altar.
Pontius Paiva is a minister of microfiction in service of the short story. Seekers can find him at pontiuspaiva.com.