The story of the week for December 21 to 25 is…
The Gift Exchange by Zoe J. Walker
All posts by Tim
GARY CORMIER: The Last Gift
What last-minute present did you bring this year? Another box of chocolates? Ha! Batteries? A kazoo?
You’d think just one time you could be thoughtful. I’m dying! This is my last Christmas, my last gift.
Let’s see what kind of nonsense… Oh. A donation.
To the Cancer Society.
I’m… speechless.
Gary Cormier wrote this story.
ZOE J WALKER: The Gift Exchange
He slides a present under the tree.
The child rolls over and exhales, dreaming of the delights of Christmas morning.
He collects a single second of life and adds it to his own.
Consider it… an exchange of gifts.
As long as there are children who believe, he will endure.
Zoe J. Walker lives between Rome and Edinburgh. She’s currently searching for representation for her novel. She won second place in November’s 2020 micro fiction competition at Retreat West. Find her at www.zoejwalker.com.
BOB THURBER: Grandparent Alienation is a Dirty Business, Especially During the Holidays
Dear babies,
Listen. I know it hurts. I’m sorry it hurts.
But don’t stop stretching those muscles.
You’re doing great. You’re growing stronger.
Don’t ever believe you’re grasping at nothing.
The distance hasn’t widened between us. I’m still right here.
Some days I can almost feel your fingertips.
Keep reaching.
Bob Thurber is the author of six books. Regarded as a master of Flash and Micro Fiction, his work has appeared in Esquire and other magazines, been anthologized 60 times, received a long list of awards, and been utilized in schools and colleges throughout the world. He resides in Massachusetts. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.
LISA MARIE LOPEZ: Christmas Memory
Christmas dinner at Aunt Ruthie’s. The old man beside me looks familiar. He asks, “Ben, have you been good?”
His chuckle fills the entire room, and I remember—fluffy white beard, velvety red suit—Christmas at Grandma’s.
I grin, six again; and from somewhere, beyond icicled houses, sleigh bells jingle.
Lisa Marie Lopez resides in northern California where she enjoys quiet walks and writing fiction. She’s had short stories published in many different literary journals and anthologies, including Train River anthology and From the Depths literary journal. Say hello at facebook.com/authorlisamariefiction
CHARIS NEGLEY: On Deaf Ears
The siren watched sailors drown every day.
The cabin boy remained alone on his ship, tears streaming.
His crew had worn such enamoured expressions, dreamily drawn overboard into the rolling waters below.
Terrified, heartbroken, he watched the siren as she sang, her spellbinding song never reaching his unhearing, soundless world.
Charis Negley is a Delawarian getting her BS in professional writing at Taylor University. She is currently working on her novel and evaluating manuscripts for IlluminateYA. See more on her blog.
KELLI SIMPSON: Spare Parts
The judge addressed the defendant with palpable disgust.
“You, sir, have been found guilty of heinous crimes against humanity. Do you have anything to say before I pronounce your sentence?”
The defendant shrugged.
“The commercial on tv asked me to donate organs. Never said they had to be my organs!”
Kelli Simpson is a mother and writer living in Norman, Oklahoma. She has published work in Lamplit Underground, Rabid Oak, The Avenue, Ghost City Review, and The River.
LAURA BESLEY: In the Flesh
I frown, glimpsing you through the café window. Easily ten years older than your profile picture, what does that make you? Vain? Sentimental? Insecure?
Smiling wide, you wave me over.
Snippets of our countless conversations swirl around my head, reminding me of what’s important, and I push open the door.
Laura Besley writes short fiction and squeezes her writing into the bookends of her day. She has lived in Holland, Germany, and Hong Kong, but now lives in land-locked central England and misses the sea. Her flash fiction collection, The Almost Mothers, was published in March 2020. She tweets at @laurabesley.
KEITH HOERNER: You Never Come; You Go
I watch you walk out the back door, or the door to the basement, or the door to the bathroom. The house is a sideways maze of doors and shirt tails and weakening hands trailing around corners. You never come—you go.
And then I remember: you passed last night.
Keith Hoerner (BS, MFA) pushes words around in Southern Illinois. His debut memoir is scheduled for publication by Adelaide Books in Spring 2021.
ABIGAIL WILKIN: The Afterlife
I float on the open ocean. Sunlight bores down, fracturing me into pieces. Toxins seep into my translucent skin. Sea animals nibble me, eager to begin feasting.
This agony has only just begun. I’ll live for centuries.
Nostalgia hits me. A happier time, when all I did was carry groceries.
Abigail is a student who loves creative writing in all forms and genres. She writes around her busy uni schedule and enters competitions with the aim of one day getting published!