The story of the week for March 21 to 25 is…
Mendocino Headlands by A.K. Cotham
All posts by Tim
GR LeBLANC: In a Heartbeat
“Not viable.”
The doctor’s words seared through her, stole the breath from her lungs.
Granted, the timing sucked, but her fiancé’s visible relief chafed.
Tonight, she curls up in bed alone. Sorrow weaves through her, clinging like vines—grief for a future she had never known she wanted… until now.
G.R. LeBlanc is a haiku poet and fiction writer living in Atlantic Canada, where the winters are long and harsh but the people are warm and kind. Learn more about her at https://sleekbio.com/grleblanc.
MARK REEP: Unsigned
Distill from Moret’s unfinished sketches
the melancholy of a seaside town in winter:
Lay of her letters from exile a waterstair,
closed souvenir shops, a broken shutter banging.
Near dark now, in an unsigned corner,
a woman struggles with a torn umbrella,
surrenders with a wordless curse
to the wind.
Mark Reep is an artist and writer. His drawings and photographs have hung in galleries, museums, and juried exhibitions in the US and UK for more than thirty years. His work has appeared in publications including American Art Collector, Endicott Journal, Wetcanvas, Metazen, Prick of the Spindle, Blue Fifth Review, A-Minor, Artgraphica, and Postcard Stories. Mark was founding editor of the limited-run quarterly lit & arts journal Ramshackle Review. He lives and works in New York’s Finger Lakes region.
BRIANNE ROBERTSON: Across the Courtyard
I eat my lunch with a man I shared a glance with across the courtyard: the first interaction I’ve had in a long time.
I name our kids, Julian and Ava. I want an outdoor wedding. No. Indoor. Both? I check up on my husband across the courtyard.
He left.
Aside from choking people for sport, Brianne Robertson–the Jiu Jitsu competitor–enjoys writing short excerpts and poems in her spare time.
AK COTHAM: Mendocino Headlands
The contours of his salty smile are formed by rock, his body by luminescent algae, his spirit from the cornucopia of spray that crashes, sunbound. We visit and he greets us with joyous thunder, my brother, long lost to these depths and long since having forgiven us for failing him.
A.K. Cotham writes fiction and edits nonfiction in Northern California. Other short pieces have been published in CommuterLit, Brilliant Flash Fiction, 101 Words, and Every Day Fiction.
RICHARD SHELLY: Until My Final Breath
Worn eyes reach daylight
Slowly count to ten
Stay still. No movement
Listen for the men
A moment of fragility
Tears down one cheek
But soft cries of “daddy”
Banish feelings so weak
Emerge from the rubble
Of a life we once knew
Together we’ll succeed
And start life anew
Richard has followed 50-Word Stories for a number of years, though generally only writes for himself.
AJ JOSEPH: Luck of the Irish
He had no choice.
His debts were piling up. His landlord had increased rent; grocery prices were astronomical.
He stepped outside, albeit reluctantly, summoned his rainbow, and dug where it ended. He removed five pieces of gold from the pot, noting sadly that there were fewer each time.
Darn inflation.
AJ Joseph tweets very short stories as @sonobeus.
SUSAN GALE WICKES: Boundaries
A small house.
One closet.
Slowly, my half began infringing on his.
One inch turned into two, then two into five.
He never mentioned it.
Just double-hung his shirts.
Squeezed more things into allotted dresser drawers.
Packed up rarely-worn items for Goodwill.
He called it down-sizing.
I called it love.
Susan Gale Wickes lives in Indiana. In addition to writing and reading short stories, she enjoys cartoon captioning and has won the New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest.
RON. LAVALETTE: Backyard Olympics Failure
It wasn’t until the final, near-miss horseshoe toss was disputed that things escalated into open warfare. Heavy metal shrapnel flew in almost every direction, none of it intended for its usual targets, all of it meant to send an unmistakably on-target message of protest. Neither team took home the gold.
Ron. Lavalette lives on Vermont’s Canadian border. His poetry, flash fiction, and creative nonfiction has been very widely published in both print and pixel forms. His first chapbook, Fallen Away (Finishing Line Press), is now available at all standard outlets. A reasonable sample of his published works can be found at EGGS OVER TOKYO.
AMY: Manor House Manners
His eyes devoured the exquisite king suite of their romantic manor house getaway.
A four-poster bed, Victorian ornaments, a grand window framing acres of secluded woodland. Perfection.
Everything, except that old doll.
He threw his jacket over its face. “Sorry doll, but you’re creeping me out.”
“How rude,” it replied.
Amy is a creative writing student from Wales.