The story of the week for January 27 to 31 is…
Next Day’s Receipt by Andrew C. Nosti
All posts by Tim
MARJAN SIERHUIS: One Down
New Year’s Resolution: lose weight, join a gym, take up a hobby, learn to fly, quit smoking, quit drinking, go for an annual physical, stop biting nails, read a book, spend less, save more, get a job, quit swearing, submit to 50 word stories.
One down, twelve more to go.
Marjan Sierhuis loves reading 50 word stories.
ANDREW C NOSTI: Next Day’s Receipt
LUCKY CHARMS CRL———————————————————-$3.49
GAL 2% MLK———————————————————————$3.89
UNISOM SLPTABS————————————————————-$6.99
SALE GILLETTE RZR———————————————————–$7.99
JIF CRMY PNTBTR————————————————————-$2.57
EGGS DZN————————————————————————$2.49
ABSOLUT VODKA————————————————————-$19.99
KLEENEX————————————————————————–$6.99
EMPTY ARMS, APPELBAUM———————————————–$12.95
TOTAL………………………………………………………….$67.35
RETURN: GOODNIGHT MOON, BROWN——————————–$4.98
RETURN: SHEETS BLU———————————————————$6.99
RETURN: PIONEER PHOTO ALBM—————————————$11.99
NET TOTAL…………………………………………………….$43.39
Andrew C. Nosti is a recent graduate of Gettysburg College, having studied English with a writing concentration and history. He has been published in Gettysburg College’s The Mercury and the Emerging Writers of Pennsylvania series.
JO WITHERS: Side Effect
Cruelly, the mirror mocks me, shows me what I’ve wanted for so long.
A sideways glance reveals my swollen stomach,
Neatly rounded, bloated from the drugs,
Curving out as though I’m six months pregnant.
Empty, stitched and sore when all I dreamt of was a child.
Realistically, that’s impossible now.
Jo Withers writes micros, flash, and shorts from her home in South Australia. Recent fiction can be found in Milk Candy Review, Ellipsis Zine and Lunate.
CHARLIE SWAILES: Let Go
I was six when my father left. I remember his hands, large and coarse, letting go of mine to hurl a battered suitcase into his rusting, coughing car.
Now his hands seem small and frail, shaking with fear for his next long journey.
I cannot bring myself to clasp them.
Charlie Swailes writes short and very short stories when not teaching English or looking after her two small boys.
JR WALSH: Take a deep breath
We moved West for the smoke. That wasn’t the reason, but the reality in our lungs. We didn’t have fires back East. We had sarcasm. Which wasn’t a problem there. We paid our taxes where the air is clear enough to see acid rain, where springtime storms devour marble cemeteries.
JR Walsh writes in landlocked Idaho, but itsjrwalsh.com floats everywhere.
JOHN B SINCLAIR: Special
Officially he turns twenty next birthday.
“Not old enough to buy champagne”
He laughed.
Carefully removing his fading birth certificate from a plastic envelope he read:
“DOB: February 29, 1940”
Mom waited until after midnight because “He was special.”
He was her only child; she was right.
Eighty years ago.
John B. Sinclair is a much-travelled Scot who has now returned to Scotland, where he enjoys freelance writing on a variety of subjects.
ARMAND VILCHES: Aloft
I gaze overhead into the blue and white swirls of ethereal mist.
I long to be there.
Dreaming; wishing; trying to find a way.
I abandon my responsibilities.
Now my magic carpet is at the runway’s end.
I advance the throttle and point the airplane’s nose skyward.
I am free.
Armand Vilches is an aviation enthusiast and flight instructor who has been flying since he was a teen. Unfortunately, his day job tends to get in the way of being at the controls of an airplane.
KEN GRANT: Bitter Life
A harsh sun beating down. A long walk to the place of hope and despair. She carefully balances the container above her head. Finally reaching her destination, she pulls out the water that means both life and death.
This salvation kills slowly—a small mercy, but one just the same.
Ken Grant is a freelance writer living in Santa Ana, California. He has one published novel, So Great a Salvation. His short stories have appeared in Jitter Press, Left Hand Publishers, and Alien Dimensions.
VC SLADE: Postlapsarian
I know this may be a shock, coming from me. But I regret it.
No, not loving you. LORD knows, that’s the best thing I’ll ever do.
The mistake was letting you fall for me—when I knew you’d be the only one to live with the consequences.
V. C. Slade is a writer and amateur adult in California. She can be found at vcslade.com.